


Made for More

by FukaiFox



Series: Not Just Tools - Detroit: Become Human Pokémon AU [6]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animal Abuse, Autistic Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connor and Gavin are friends, Conspiracy, Cult, Depression, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Goth-Punk RK900, Kinda, Multi, Murder Mystery, Other, Panic Attacks, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Sexual Assault, Pokemon, Pokemon Abuse, Polyamorous Jericho Members (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Trans Gavin Reed, Unethical Experimentation, Upgraded Connor | RK900 has OCD, autistic characters, ch 18 only
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:06:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 78,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22591477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FukaiFox/pseuds/FukaiFox
Summary: The revolution has passed. Androids are legally and rightfully seen as living beings. Not everyone may agree with that, but nobody can stop progress.Things are hard for a while as life slowly trickles back into Detroit but eventually, it's like everything is back to normal, until one murder case turns out to be more than what it seems and uncovers something nobody was expecting.Pokémon experimentation, rituals, obsession, all leading to a cult set on destroying everything Markus and the rest of Jericho have been trying to create for almost three years.
Relationships: Connor/Josh/Markus/North/Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor, Original Character Relationships - Relationship, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: Not Just Tools - Detroit: Become Human Pokémon AU [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1474826
Comments: 48
Kudos: 77





	1. Where Are They Now?

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Made for More, the official second installment of Not Just Tools, everyone! I'm so excited to begin posting this :) It's taken me a good long while to get to the point where I can start posting chapters without having to worry about catching up to myself. I won't be updating as often as I used to since I work most days and I share the computer with family, but I hope you all remain interested nonetheless  
> Thank you to Shplottwist, my wonderful beta, for being a quality human being and offering me a nice egg in this trying time by proofreading the garbage I send them
> 
> Please heed the tags on this one, y'all! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Some weeks after the revolution, after Elijah Kamski is reinstated as CEO of CyberLife, his first action is to gift the Belle Isle CyberLife tower to Jericho and all its members, offering it as a haven. They can do whatever they like with it, he says, and they really aren’t in a position to refuse. The tower is filled with thousands of rooms, and more biocomponents and Thirium than they know what to do with, on top of it being a production plant so they can always make more if they need to. It’s a generous offer, and they accept.  
Connor waits for a few days before making an appearance. He still feels uncomfortable around the others of Jericho and other androids in general, but he has an offer as well: His CyberLife Pokémon. He offers them to any who may want or need a companion, someone who can love and appreciate them the way they deserve. Their presence in Connor’s life is like a constant reminder of who he used to be, and even though he knows it isn’t their fault, he wants them to have a good life. All but Nel, who adamantly refuses to leave Connor’s side for anything. He relents and allows her to stay with him, and while the others are somewhat sad to leave him, they remain mostly neutral about the situation. Nel stays perched on his shoulder, nuzzling his head and attempting to groom his hair as he watches the Pokémon walk away into the CyberLife tower, which has come to be known as New Jericho.   
New Jericho is a safe-haven for androids and their Pokémon with a strict policy regarding humans. Though Markus knows not all humans are bad, too many of his people are made uncomfortable by their presence and would prefer to not be around them, and he understands. Only one human is allowed in New Jericho, and even then he doesn’t visit often. Carl Manfred, even in his declining health, makes an effort to come around and see Markus a few times a week if he can, happily donating money from his art auctions to the funds, though Markus tries to refuse them every time. Elijah Kamski has already set them up for automatic rent payments from his own expenses so they don’t have to worry about that, but Carl says he has little else to offer in the form of support for Markus except financially. Markus disagrees but lets Carl do as he wishes. 

Amren, Markus’s Rockruff, is always happy to see Carl and the Smeargle he brings with him everywhere as his Pokémon assistant. Amren had returned to Markus’s possession soon after the raid on Jericho. He had sent all his people to a church and told them to wait for him, to just stay put and stay safe, and that he would return soon. He had visited Carl during this time, not knowing how to feel about the fact the door still automatically unlocked for him and welcomed him home. Carl had been in a terrible state at the time, even his new android caretaker had expressed the belief that the man would soon pass. Carl gave Markus the exact words he’d needed to hear, just like Markus had hoped and believed he would, and Amren had refused to let Markus leave without her.  
 _“She’s missed you, Markus. Just as stubborn as you are.”_ Carl had told him. _“Even tried to stop the police from taking you… Almost ran out the door after their cars to chase you down.”_  
And so Markus had taken her but made sure she knew that she wouldn’t be at the forefront of any of their plans. It was too dangerous. Amren seemed to understand and was just happy to be reunited with Markus again.   
Much to everyone’s surprise and relief, Carl seemed to take a turn for the better after the revolution with the stress of worrying about Markus’s well-being lifted from his chest. Many androids were confused by his presence at first, even more-so by Markus referring to the man as “dad”, but after meeting him most grew to like him and accept his visits. Carl adored the members of Jericho, especially North. While Simon and Josh were polite, he said, North wasn’t afraid to say exactly what she was thinking, and he respected that. He teases Markus about his cluster of partners often, saying that with as many people keeping an eye on him as he does, it's amazing that he manages to get himself into the kind of trouble he finds.

  
Connor even meets Carl once during a visit to New Jericho when Markus requests him there, and the man is polite and kind, up until he teasingly asks if he’s another one of Markus’s boyfriends he’s yet to be introduced to. Connor is flustered and confused by the question, and denies any such relationship between himself and Markus, but Carl just laughs and claims he’s just teasing him and that it's a great bit of fun drawing unexpected reactions from androids now that they can properly express themselves. Markus enters the room at just the right moment, sighing, playfully accusing Carl of bullying his friends as he greets Connor with a firm pat on the shoulder.  
“Let an old man have his fun,” Carl complains, though continues smiling. Even Nel snickers at Connor’s side before going to play with Amren while their trainers talk. Connor is more of a consult than anything, but nobody except himself denies his place in New Jericho. Markus calls upon him frequently for advice on how to speak with the humans, and Connor is always more than happy to help, providing insight into negotiation and subtle manipulation.   
“The main goal,” Connor explains, “is to plant your own wants into their heads and make the humans feel like it's their idea, that they’re graciously giving you this thing you want like they’ve actually done something so wildly out of nowhere out of the goodness of their hearts. Make them feel like they’re doing you a favor rather than complying with a demand.”

With Connor’s help, legislation slowly moves forward. He never would have imagined going to D.C. to help with these political talks with President Warren and the Supreme Court but he’s been several times now, spending weeks away from home as he does his best to make up for past sins and find his new place in life. It moves slowly, slower than anyone would really like, but they have to for their own safety. Too much social change at once could spark something terrible. It starts with the small things, like androids being a “protected class”, and assaulting one carries the same weight as it would on a human. It’s illegal to discriminate against them and bar them entry from bars, restaurants, hotels, stores, or any kind of public transportation. It’s a small step, but the first ones always are.  
Josh, North, and Simon help Markus write his speeches and proposals, while Connor proofreads to make sure there are no loopholes or minor slips. They have to make sure nobody can take advantage of some oversight and hold the receipt in their back pocket.

  
When he’s not in D.C. with Jericho, Connor resides with the Lieutenant. Many wonder why, including Hank himself, but Connor can only say that he’s happy in the human’s home. It’s familiar, it’s safe. North asks him once why he chose to go back to living with his previous owner when he could stay in New Jericho with the rest of them.  
“Hank was never my owner, North. CyberLife, when it came to my circumstances, actually didn’t care for him at all, and actively encouraged me to do everything possible to disregard him while I completed my mission. Obviously, that didn’t work out.” He tells her. “It’s…not unlike the relationship Markus has with Carl, I suppose. We’re family. I look up to him for guidance. Hank gives me a very…human outlook on things that I don’t quite understand sometimes, offers a fresh perspective. And I know he’ll always be there for me when I need him, and the other way around of course.”  
North just hums and crosses her arms, leaning back against the wall.  
“…if you say so, Connor. I still think you’d be better off at New Jericho with us.”  
“I guess you’d just have to meet him,” Connor says simply. North’s eyes widen before she snorts a laugh and punches his shoulder.  
“As-fucking-if.”

Connor likes North. She’s the only one that seems to really understand what deviancy has been like for him. She had found him loitering around outside New Jericho one day and asked him what the fuck he was doing out there, said that Markus was waiting for him. In a moment of weakness, he’d been completely open with her. He told her that he was afraid, not of Markus, but of the other androids inside the building. So many of them knew his face, knew what he was. Markus had known about him, which meant that others warned him of the famous Deviant Hunter. He’s afraid that that’s all he’ll be to others, that they won’t be able to see past that no matter what he does. He doesn’t specifically explain what happened at Hart Plaza, but instead says that there was an “incident” in which he almost hurt someone very important to him, that in a final act of anger towards him, CyberLife had attempted to “trap” his deviant self and manually take control over him. They’d tarnished and violated his newly discovered autonomy, and he’s terrified of it happening again every single day.  
And North had been strangely quiet during the whole thing, silence stretching on into the minutes before speaking up. She told him that she knew how that felt, for others to only see what they think they know. Connor blinks. Of course. She’s a WR400, a Traci. She says that people, androids and humans, look at her with so much pity, sometimes even disgust, based solely on the things she did under her programming when she didn’t have a choice. She said that for as much as they love and accept her, the other leaders of Jericho don’t fully understand. Josh was a college lecturer, Simon was a household assistant, and Markus had that cushy, privileged life with Carl. She’d never hold it against them, and they do their best, but they’ll never understand. Ever since that day, they’ve had a bit of a friendship between them that grows with every playful conversation. Even their Pokémon play together well.

  
So he stays with Hank, helping out around the house when he can after he returns to work shortly after the revolution. There’s a lot to be done, and with half their staff lost, the precinct is immensely understaffed, and crime never sleeps. Connor does what he can, making sure the house stays orderly, taking care of Sumo and the others, and ensuring Hank has a good breakfast in the mornings and dinner in the evenings when he returns home. Of course, Hank doesn’t make Connor do all of this and does help out. He really does appreciate it and makes sure Connor knows it by thanking him often, though Connor tries to tell him he doesn’t need thanks, that it's the least he can do since he doesn’t and can’t yet pay rent, and that’s usually where the conversation stops before it delves into an argument about Connor not needing to pay rent or prove himself useful as a right to live.  
The android is good company once you get used to him. He’s quiet, and asks a lot of questions about things he doesn’t understand, and has a bit of trouble picking up subtle sarcasm and social cues, but he’s one of the best friends Hank has had in a long time. He keeps the human afloat, gives him a new perspective on his problems and motivates him to want to get better. Hank struggles still, always tempted to return to old habits, and he does occasionally slip, but Connor is always there to remind him that progress is progress, no matter how small. He isn’t failing unless he’s giving up. It’s always just enough to kick Hank’s ass back into gear. He doesn’t like to feel pitied or babied, and Connor doesn’t do that to him. He’s empathetic, but also real and delivers truth, no matter how painful it is to hear. Hank appreciates that. He tries to encourage Connor back, telling him that staying cooped up in the house all the time isn’t good for him, that he should go out and try to make some friends, find a hobby, maybe another Pokémon if he wants. Connor deflects though, saying that he does have friends in New Jericho, but they’re awfully busy and it's no time for social visits with the political climate surrounding androids. He spends time with them when they request him just to ensure he isn’t intruding. As for hobbies, Connor says he hasn’t found anything in particular that stands out to him, though he has safely returned many a Pokémon that was lost in all the confusion of the revolution and evacuation to their trainers, humans and androids alike. Hank doesn’t miss that, and he doesn’t miss the late-night detective dramas Connor watches on TV or reads on the couch. He knows just what Connor wants, and hopes that someday soon he’ll be able to have it.  
When it comes to Pokémon, Connor is a little withdrawn. He doesn’t know what kinds he likes or how to know if they’ll want to be with him. Nel, his Crobat, had been with him since the beginning and had grown to love him, but she hadn’t had a choice but to follow him and do as he said for a very long time. He doesn’t want to force a Pokémon that may not like him to stay with him just because he says it has to. 

But then one day, while taking Sumo on his daily walk, Connor hears a faint splashing sound coming from an abandoned construction site that was left behind during the evacuation and hasn’t exactly been a priority since then. Walking past the NO TRESPASSING sign, he wanders into it, following the sounds. What he finds is a small Magikarp, a runt of a thing, struggling in what remains of a drying retention pond. He frowns, remembering the Wishiwashi he had replaced into its tank the night of his first mission, his test run. He grabs the empty emergency Pokéball on his belt and kneels.  
“I can get you out of here, take you to the river.” He says, clicking the empty ball and expanding it. The Magikarp gasps and jumps excitedly, disappearing inside with a quick flash, the light around the seal glowing green. He leaves the construction site and starts to head back home to drop off Sumo, promising the Stoutland and others that he’ll be back soon. He’s glad there’s a bus stop not far from Hank’s house because even though he’s incapable of physical exhaustion, the prospect of walking all the way to Riverside Park and back wasn’t something Connor would have put on the list of Things He Wants To Do. There are some people there with their children, sitting on benches while kids play in the park or with their Pokémon. There are some wild Pokémon about too, the typical city crawlers like Rattata, Pidgey, Pidove, and Meowth. He even watches a small child play hide-and-seek with what appears to be a completely wild Eevee, and he smiles, wondering just how Cole might have played with Azzy. Would he be happy with his evolution choice? …would he have liked Connor?

The android shakes his head, willing his yellow LED back to a calm, steady blue as he approaches the boardwalk, looking out over the river. There’s plenty of other water-types for this Magikarp to enjoy and an immense amount of real-estate to make a home of. He smiles and pulls the ball from his belt, rolling it in his hands before tossing it up over the water, freeing Magikarp from inside and watching as it falls into the water below with a large splash. His self-made mission pings bright before disappearing, and he hums. It feels good to accomplish his goals, especially when he creates them himself. He’s about to leave when a splash from below catches his attention, then another and another, until he finally returns to the railing and leans over, looking down. The Magikarp isn’t leaving like he’d expected it to, but instead just stares back up at him.  
“…Do you not like it here? I’m sorry, I can take you somewhere else if you’d like.” He suggests, but it just keeps jumping, even higher when Connor grabs the ball off his belt again. “Oh! Is it..the ball you want?”  
The Magikarp flips this time when it jumps.  
“…you want to stay with me?”  
“ _Ka!_ ”

Again, the Magikarp jumps from the water, spitting out a mouthful of water and twirling. Connor will take that as a yes. He smiles fondly at the ball in his hand and then looks to the Pokémon in the river below, and he nods his head. Magikarp gives Connor a wide, dopey smile, and dives deep under the water. It takes hardly a moment for it to build the momentum it needs to spring from the water high up into the air above the railing of the boardwalk, and Connor tosses the empty ball as high as he can. The Magikarp meets the ball, slapping it with its tail fin to pop it open, letting itself be taken inside with a burst of white light, the ball falling back down right into Connor’s waiting hands. Looking down at the glowing green light, Connor smiles and runs his thumb over it. He’s never caught a Pokémon before, never thought he wanted to. He was content with Nel, with Sumo and Azzy and Lance and Nova, but the idea of having another for himself that’s his to train as he sees fit until it evolves, turns into something they can be proud of together, is appealing.

Hank will be proud, he thinks. 


	2. What We Deserve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a long battle, but the court relents and rules in favor of Jericho. The New Equal Rights for Androids Act (New ERA Act) is instated that day and androids are, effective immediately, allowed to apply for work anywhere they choose, granted they fit the qualifications.
> 
> -
> 
> "I don’t want someone to mistake me for something I’m not.” He says. Connor lifts his left hand. “If someone thinks I’m one way and likes me,” he lifts his right hand now and retracts the liquid polymer synth skin, barring his white chassis to the cold, “then finds out I’m another and hates me, which time were they pretending? I’d rather know someone’s intentions the first time around.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short one, but it starts to pick up after this, I promise!
> 
> thank you all for being so patient and supportive, I'm glad you're as excited as I am for this to update!

This previous trip to D.C. with Jericho was a difficult one. Trying to explain to a bunch of humans that androids should be allowed to join the workforce and be paid, even though there are humans who need the jobs as well, is incredibly difficult. When Markus begins to get overwhelmed, Connor easily steps in and tells them that with androids stepping in and being put on the payroll, that also means androids paying taxes which are put back into the community, and with that money, there can be more things built that a city might require, like housing for instance. He explains that homelessness amongst androids is an increasing problem, that while many do reside in their own constructed dorms in New Jericho, the spaces are small, and many would like to have a real space of their own. Androids joining the workforce has the undeniable potential of adding money into the community lost by human joblessness simply by their spending. He also says that since androids don’t consume food, there’s little chance for an increase in food waste.   
He even gets a little personal when it comes to defending androids who may wish to return to their previous designation. Connor says that he was designed for police work, an investigative prototype made to be a detective. He explains that he’s good at what he was built for, that it makes him happy to solve puzzles and cases and to see justice properly served. He says it feels fulfilling to be there, that even before deviation he had felt that it was where he belonged and that he wished he could have continued to stay after his mission from CyberLife was complete. 

It’s a long battle, but the court relents and rules in favor of Jericho. The New Equal Rights for Androids Act (New ERA Act) is instated that day and androids are, effective immediately, allowed to apply for work anywhere they choose, granted they fit the qualifications. If classes, testing, or evaluations of any kind are required, androids must attend, pass, and be deemed fit for the job. They are now required by law to have an identification card, which must designate their android status, but it’s not required they wear any identifiers in public, even at work. As soon as the hearing is adjourned, and everyone is dismissed, the leaders of New Jericho practically pounce on Connor the moment they get outside, hugging him tightly. When Markus had begun to lose his composure and become flustered, they were sure that this would be a lost cause this time around, but Connor hadn’t hesitated to step in and had saved them a lot of grief and stress. He had finally won them the right to work and be compensated, they wouldn’t have made it this far without him. He’s a little overwhelmed at first, not used to being touched like this, especially not all at once by so many others, but the feeling of being so wanted and appreciated is nice.   
He calls Hank as soon as he has a moment and tells him the good news, even though the human had been watching the televised hearing, and Hank congratulates him, telling him he always knew he had it in him, that he’s a hard bastard to argue with when he’s got those big puppy eyes. Connor laughs as well - Hank would know better than anyone just how persuasive and stubborn he can be when he really wants something. It feels good to put his skills with negotiation and manipulation to work on something that’s for the good of many, rather than to just further someone else’s personal agenda. 

Markus talks to him later while the others rest. Connor is awake, fiddling with his coin while he stands outside the hotel, letting Nel stretch her wings and explore. The leader smiles and stands beside Connor.  
“So.. You really wanna go back to the Detroit Police Department?” He asks, letting Amren out to explore as well. Connor’s LED spins yellow.  
“…I dunno. I think so. I wasn’t lying earlier; I really did enjoy police work. But… I worry I’m in the minority here. I know I shouldn’t care what others think, at least that’s what Hank says, but I can’t help it. All this fighting for us to be able to finally pick our own jobs and I run right back to where I was?”  
Markus sighs softly. He’s been wondering if this was something on Connor’s mind. North had confided in him before that Connor seems to struggle with a lot of self-doubts, but he’d never really seen it so openly. Connor was good at a lot of things, and hiding what he was thinking or feeling was definitely one of them.  
“Well, you’re making the choice to return, aren’t you? Wasn’t that the point of all this, for us to be able to choose? I certainly won’t hold it against you, and neither will the others. You’re a good detective, Connor. I mean… You did find Jericho through pure skill despite not being a deviant yet, and the humans had to cheat.” He says. “If you want my advice, I say you should go for it. If being a detective made you happy, then why not? Better you than some corrupt human who might abuse their power, right? You have a painfully strong sense of morality, and it's not a bad thing. It’s what drives you to do good, almost recklessly. It’s…honestly admirable, Connor. I’m glad to have you with us, but if being a detective is what you want, then I want you to do that.” Markus says. He places a hand on Connor’s shoulder, watching his LED change colors.   
“…sorry for the subject change, but…can I ask why you haven’t taken out your LED?” He asks. Connor seems grateful for it, but still reaches up to run his fingers over the light self-consciously.  
“…should I take it out? Is it strange I haven’t yet?”  
Markus shakes his head.  
“I’m just curious. There are some at New Jericho who haven’t. Even the others still had theirs when we first met. I just wanted to know if you had a personal reason or simply hadn’t gotten around to it yet.” Markus explains. Connor sighs and looks up at the night sky, watching his breath puff from his lips. It’s starting to snow. Despite the frigid February temperatures, Connor and Markus don’t really feel the temperature. They still bundle up in warm jackets to avoid being stared at, as if they’re not immediately recognizable, but it helps humans adjust if androids are more like them.   
“I don’t…think I want to take it out. It’s strange. I feel no attachment to it, and I know that nothing would change if I decided to take it out, but... I don’t want someone to mistake me for something I’m not.” He says. Connor lifts his left hand. “If someone thinks I’m one way and likes me,” he lifts his right hand now and retracts the liquid polymer synth skin, barring his white chassis to the cold with a soft blue glow, “then finds out I’m another and hates me, which time were they pretending? I’d rather know someone’s intentions the first time around.”

Markus blinks, and if he still had his LED it would be spinning yellow too. Connor’s always had such strange insight into things and ways of explaining life. He’s able to describe and put into words things Markus didn’t even realize were things to be thought about, things he’d never noticed. It’s such an interesting thing, the way Connor’s brain rationalizes what he experiences so differently than anyone else Markus knows. He’s glad to have Connor as a friend, he’s always expanding his vision of life through the eyes of the people he’s fighting for.  
“That’s a valid reason to keep it. Don’t feel pressured by anyone to take it out, Connor. We all have different ways of taking pride in who we are.” He says, patting the other RK model between the shoulders. Connor offers a tiny smile and recovers his hand.  
“…thanks, Markus. It’s… It’s good to know I’ll have your support.”  
“No problem. You can always talk to me about anything, Connor. We’re friends. I’ll do my best to help you.”

Friends. 

Friendship is still an odd thing to Connor. Still so new to all his emotions and feelings, he still had trouble figuring out just exactly what something is or even realizing that someone else is expressing those emotions to him. He can pinpoint anger, sadness, joy, love, fear, but mostly in extremes. He doesn’t quite understand them for himself, but he knows what it looks and sounds like. He knows there are things in life that he loves, but there are so many different kinds of love and he just can’t tell the difference between them all most times. The love he feels for his Pokémon, for Markus and the others, and for Hank are all different, he knows, but he doesn’t know why or how to explain it. Hank tried teasing him once about his ”obvious crush” on Markus, but it had just left Connor confused. He admired Markus a great deal and surely looked up to him, but didn’t feel anything beyond that. Or at least, he didn't think he did.

He looked up to and admired Hank as well, but it just… _felt_ different, though he certainly didn’t have any romantic inclinations towards the Lieutenant either. As he’d explained it to North before, the best way he could describe it would be something almost paternal, _almost_.   
When it comes to Markus and the others, he cares for them deeply, would be shattered if anything were to happen to any of them, knows that he loves them in some way. They give his newfound life a real purpose that he thought he’d lost, and he’s grateful for that. They laugh and joke together, even if sometimes it’s a little lost on Connor. Hank’s sarcasm is a lot heavier set than theirs, so his is easier to pick up on, but he isn’t ever made to feel like he doesn’t belong. If he’s confused by someone’s joke or teasing, they take the time to actually explain it to Connor. It doesn’t make it any less fun or enjoyable, and that make Connor feel like part of the group more than anything. 

They recall their Pokémon and head back inside the hotel where North, Simon, and Josh are all in a pile on the couch watching movies. Connor thinks that such a wild tangle of limbs and awkward angles would be uncomfortable, but the group seems content, even more so when Markus finally joins them. They know better than to invite Connor to join them, and the sits on the other end of the couch happily by himself as they all watch the movie together. He feels better after his talk with Markus, surer of his decision than he’s been of anything in a long time. Support from others in his life that aren’t Hank is extremely validating. He didn’t realize just how much he needed to hear from others that he was making the right choice.

 _Yes,_ he thinks, _friends sounds right._


	3. Detective Connor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He belongs here, and he’ll do anything and everything to prove it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a serious note for y'all, but please stay indoors and avoid large crowded areas. I know some of us are unable to given some of our jobs, but if you can avoid it, please do not go into public, ESPECIALLY if you are sick. Wash your hands, sanitize appropriately, and for the love of GOD do not hoard cleaning supplies. People bulk-buying hand sanitizer and masks and cleaning supplies are robbing those who need them most, such as elderly, infants, and those with compromised immune systems.
> 
> Stay safe

As it turns out, Connor doesn’t even need to apply at the Detroit Police Department, because as soon as everything involving Connor being a legal citizen is finalized (ID, license to drive, license to own Pokémon, etc.) he’s getting called into the precinct with Hank. It’s different since last he was here, emptier, but Connor supposes he shouldn’t be shocked with half their staff being androids. He wonders who else might return. He’s glad to see Gavin is currently out, thinking for a moment if perhaps he actually evacuated the city during the revolution. He shrugs internally, deciding it doesn’t matter. If he does continue to work for the DPD, he’ll have to see him eventually. Gavin is too stubborn to stay away if he’s gone, and there’s only a 13.6% chance of him having left the city anyway.

Captain Fowler sits in his office as usual, his Granbull faithfully at his side watching all the goings-on in the bullpen, ready to alert its trainer. As Connor and Hank walk in, it starts wagging its tail and approaches them. Connor gives it a little pat and a scratch under the chin and receives an affectionate lick on the palm for his troubles while Hank goes largely ignored. Fowler snorts.  
“Some guard dog he is.”   
Connor wants to actually agree, reading the description his internal dex supplies him with that informs him Granbull are actually timid and make terrible watchdogs, and is nearly about to when the Captain clears his throat.  
“Right to business. Connor. I’ve seen you on the news lately arguing with those judges in the court, standing up for androids’ rights to re-enter the workforce. You said that if you’d had the choice after you completed the “deviancy” case, you would have liked to stay here, right?”   
Connor swallows and nods.  
“Yes, Captain.”  
“Why? I wanna know. You could be anything you want now, you could keep up with those buddies of yours if you wanted and nobody could stop you. But you wanna come back here. Tell me why.”  
Connor furrows his eyebrows and takes a deep breath.  
“…because it makes me happy.” He says. “I.. I feel good when I put a puzzle together, when I finally see the missing piece that’s been overlooked. Seeing those who do wrong properly brought to justice and punished for their crimes and misdeeds isn’t just what I was made for in the literal sense, but spiritually too, I think. It feels right to even be in this building. I… I’d be a good cop, probably even one of the best, if given the chance to prove it. If I’m honest, I’ve missed detective work so much that I.. I actually have been locating and returning Pokémon lost in the confusion of the evacuation. I believe that I could be invaluable to the department with my particular skill set, and I don’t want my potential in crime-solving to go to waste hunting down missing cats or standing in a stuffy room full of humans I have to convince that myself and hundreds of millions more of my people are more than a Roomba with a voice box and legs. That just isn’t where I belong.” 

Captain Fowler and Hank are silent as Connor talks. There’s so much emotion in his voice, such a longing to do what he truly feels he was meant to do. He wants to help people. Under CyberLife’s thumb, forced to do good only for the benefit of a multi-billion dollar company rather than the good of the people like a cop is supposed to do, he wants to redeem himself. He doesn’t just want to be a cop, he wants to be a good cop.  
Fowler nods and leans back in his chair.   
“I’ll be completely honest with you, Connor. I wanted you back when I called you here, but I just needed to make sure you wanted it to. If I were to offer you your old position as a detective, as Hank’s partner, would you accept it? You would need a Pokémon partner as well, your own choice. I can give you some time to think about it if you need t-“  
“Yes!” Connor blurts, then clears his throat into his fist bashfully, trying to pretend there isn’t a pale blue flush rising to his cheeks. “I- I mean, yes, Captain. I’d be grateful and honored to return to my old position. I’ll take any tests, classes, and evaluations I require. May I ask, why am I being placed back in a detective position rather than starting as a beat cop?”  
“Thought you might ask that. Consider it a…promotion for all your good work done during the revolution. Congratulations, Connor. Just get me all that stuff you need, which I know you’ll pass with flying colors so I don’t even really see the point. Could hand me a sticky note with the word please written in crayon and I’d be a fuckin’ idiot to not hire you. So, cause you’re an android you don’t actually need to take any long college classes or anything, you just need to take the tests. I mean, take the classes if you want, but not necessary. Twelve weeks in a police academy is really all you need, just to make sure you know the basics. Get all the official shit done, and you’ll have your desk back right next to Hank. Sound good to you?”  
Connor nods his head eagerly. The idea of actually being back at what he was meant for is almost like a dream, and for a moment he’s almost scared it is one.   
“Yes, Captain,” he says, and Fowler rises from his chair to meet Connor for a firm handshake, the deal made.

When he leaves the precinct after, he can’t help but stand outside waiting for his cab, just grinning widely and feeling so much positive, joyful energy building inside of him he’s practically vibrating with it. It’s so much he thinks he might not be able to contain it, bouncing and rocking back and forth on his feet, heel-to-toe. Once inside the privacy of the cab, he immediately does his research on just what he needs and how to get it. He can schedule a time for his tests on criminal justice and all that apply to that field. He knows he’ll ace them. He’d have to borrow the money from Hank to pay for it, but he’d, of course, pay him back for it as soon as he can. Next is the police academy, which will train him and his chosen partner Pokémon to be officers, taking 12-14 weeks' worth of classes on state laws, local ordinances, constitutional law, living rights, accident investigation, traffic control, self-defense, first-aid, firearms, and emergency response. He can’t wait. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so excited for anything in his life, and can’t imagine anything could beat this.

Later that night, when Hank returns home, Connor is so busy doing his research into the things he needs for this that he doesn’t even care that Hank orders a pizza. The man’s been doing well regarding getting back into shape and good health, he can have a cheat meal and enjoy some pizza. Connor does step in when he hears the second bottle of beer hit the coffee table, poking his head out of the room Hank had so graciously given to him, the one that had once belonged to Cole, and staring down the human until he relented and promised it was his last one for the night. Hank knew better than to try to sneak around behind Connor’s back so the android had no reason to think Hank would go against his word, so it was back to research and studying for the night. It was a no-brainer that Crobat would be his partner Pokémon, telling her as much as she hung upside down on a small post he’d made just for her. She trilled and excitedly flapped her wings. Connor was glad his enthusiasm was shared.

  
-

  
Fourteen weeks later, Connor stood in front of the doors to the Detroit Police Department, all his qualifications met. He had digital copies of his aced tests, a record of his “outstanding performance” in the academy, and an evaluation from a neurologist that specialized in android psychology at New Jericho. They’d told him that though he did seem to suffer from PTSD and an acute anxiety disorder, and something similar to Autism Spectrum Disorder in humans, he was sane and perfectly capable and fit for duty as soon as possible. He made sure to dress presentably, with a pair of dark jeans and a crisp white button-down tucked into his waistband with a black tie, sleeves rolled to his elbows. Crobat was at his side, hovering, waiting for him to get a move on already. He wanted to tell himself he was just waiting for Hank, who was still getting out of the car, but if he was completely honest with himself, he was so incredibly nervous, his LED strobing yellow-orange-red-orange-red-yell _oh god it he making the right choice is this what he really wants yes of course it is he’s never wanted anything more but what if New Jericho needs him well then the Captain would understand right Connor’s a centerpiece in the revolution and Android Civil Rights movement he’d have to understand that Connor was needed but what if-_  
“Hey. You alright kid?” Hank asks, placing a hand on Connor's shoulder, startling him from his thoughts with a jump.  
“…’m okay.”  
“Right. Say it again, I might believe you this time. Little louder, maybe?” Hank teases. Connor takes a deep breath to cool his systems.  
“I’m okay. Thank you, Lieutenant.” Connor breathes, smiling at the human. Hank smiles back and ruffles up Connor’s hair.  
“I know you are. Now come on, let’s get in there. You’ve earned this, Connor, just like anyone else in there. You did the work, you paid for it-“  
“Technically, you paid for it, Hank.”  
“Details. Now fuckin’ get.” 

They walk into the precinct together, past the front desk and into the bullpen, where several other officers are also at their desks or just walking around. It’s busy. Not as busy as before, what with several humans having returned now and even some androids also milling about in their uniform blues. Some have their Pokémon out, some don’t, same as the humans. Some have their LEDs, and some don’t. Those still with are definitely in the minority, but Connor certainly feels less alone and self-conscious about his decision so far to keep it. He’s glad for Crobat at his side as he walks into Fowler’s office, Hank heading to his own desk. Fowler greets him with a handshake much like the one they shared at the end of their last meeting. Connor sees Granbull patiently waiting for his scratches, but just whispers “Later,” to him, and almost snorts a laugh when the Pokémon pouts and flops on the ground like a discarded toy. 

“Well, Connor, good to see you back,” Fowler says. “Have everything you need?”  
Connor smiles. “It’s good to be back, Captain. And yes, everything you need has just been sent to your email.”  
The Captain nods and pulls the documents up on his computer, leaning back in his chair as he reads them over, impressed with what he sees.  
“Everything looks great. I just have to ask though - PTSD? Care to explain? Don’t have to, just wanna make sure you’re taken care of if you need it. We have a psychiatrist for the department if you need one.”  
Connor shakes his head.  
“I…experienced many traumas during the revolution. As winter is nearing its end, however, I highly doubt I will encounter any of my triggers for a long while. And no, but thank you. There’s a psychiatrist at New Jericho, an android, and if I need to I can reach out to them. I…feel more comfortable discussing these matters with another android. You understand.”  
Fowler just nods. “Alright, and… Autism? I don’t doubt your abilities Connor and I know you can take care of yourself, but just know that if you need any accommodations, let me know and they’ll be made.”  
“I understand, sir. Thank you, it’s appreciated.”  
“Now, for the real business. Connor, congratulations on succeeding in excess in the trials you went through just to get here. You and your Pokémon partner will make a fantastic addition to this precinct. Shit, you turned Hank around, you can probably do anything. Anyway, here you go.”   
Fowler reaches into his desk and retrieves a badge pinned to a piece of deep brown leather, holding it out for Connor to take.  
“Welcome to the department, Detective.” He says, and Connor takes the badge reverently, running his thumb over the details. He almost feels like he’s going to cry. He forces it down, telling himself he can do that later.   
“Th-thank you very much, Captain.” He says, pinning it right to the front of his belt.  
“One more thing before you go,” Fowler says, and Connor tilts his head, LED spinning yellow.  
“Sir?”

Fowler smirks and stands, opening another cabinet in his desk and pulling out a jacket, holding it out for Connor.  
“Your first assignment.” He says, and Connor unravels the coat. It’s a deep navy windbreaker not unlike the jackets the beat cops wear, but this one has insignias on the arms and glowing LED strips on the wrists and across the back just under the shoulder-blades. The insignia on the left shoulder is nearly like a Pokéball made of circuitry, and one the right shoulder is a triangle with a fist through it, the tag Markus chose for their revolution, a symbol of android pride, and the back reads **DETROIT POLICE DEPARTMENT - ANDROID DIVISION** above the LED strip. On the front left breast is his name stitched into a patch, just Connor. There’s no model, no serial number, just Connor. While Connor looks it over, Fowler also places a holster and service pistol on the desk. Connor looks up.  
“…android division?”

Fowler nods.  
“Yep. You and Hank are staying on homicide, but any case that comes in involving an android in any way, you two are on it. There’ll be more members of it for sure, but every case must have an android officer assigned to eliminate any potential bias from a human officer. Some others have expressed interest in the android division, but I wanted you to be the face of it. Also, uh, wanted to make sure it wasn’t in bad taste or anything. Dunno if the LED is still…y’know. Okay? The last thing I need is that shit.”  
“…I think its perfect, Captain.” Connor says. “Every android will express their pride in who they are in their own way. The jackets aren’t a mandatory part of a uniform, correct? As long as it’s not being used as an identifier of any kind of ownership, I believe it should be fine. I can certainly bring it up with Markus if you’d like?”  
Fowler waves his hand.  
“Nah, if you say its good then I believe you. Put it on.” He says. Connor is all too eager, pulling it around his back and pushing his arms through the sleeves. It’s a perfect fit, stopping right at his belt and the sleeves just barely slipping over his wrists. With the jacket on his back and the badge on his hip, Connor feels something deep inside himself finally settle into place, like this had been the missing piece he’s been looking for, and he knows his LED is red but he’s smiling, his hands clenched so tightly the skin nearly deactivates. He reigns himself in however and takes a slow, deep breath.  
“…thank you very much, Captain Fowler. I don’t think you fully realize just how much this means, not only to me but to my people.”  
A division of the police department dedicated to androids, specifically to help them and keep them safe, with a mandatory requirement that each case is assigned at least one android. Hank really wasn’t kidding when he said that when Fowler goes all out he goes all out. This is all more than Connor could have ever hoped for and knows that Markus and the others will be beyond delighted at this kind of progress.

“You’ll need an identifier for your Crobat too, make sure others know she’s not just a personal Pokémon. Cap, badge, vest, you’ll find it all in your desk. Now, get the hell out of my office and get to work.” Fowler says, sitting back down at his desk and turning to his terminal. Connor smiles and nods, grabbing the service pistol and holster before turning to leave.

“Good job, Connor.” He says before the android leaves, and Connor pauses for just a moment, LED flashing bright blue before he opens the door and leaves. As he leaves the room, he smiles at Crobat and makes his way to his desk across from Hank, who looks up with a knowing smile.  
“Told Jeffrey that jacket’d look good. And you say I have no sense of style.”  
“I believe my words were you have no taste, which is different. But..yes. The jacket is very nice, I like it a lot. I hope the others who join like it as well.” He says. Sure enough, in a drawer in his desk he finds the Pokémon identifiers Fowler told him about, and he lets Nel pick whichever she likes. She takes the badge on a chain carefully between her teeth and Connor takes it, placing it over her head to settle around her neck, sitting just above the wing joint, and she practically preens. 

“Perfect,” Connor says, laughing when she settles right into his lap and nuzzles his face, purring like an engine. Connor thinks that this is going to be exactly what he wants, that this is going to be everything he needs. A job he was meant for, his best friend also his partner, and a gargantuan step forward for androids gaining all their civil rights. His brain feels fuzzy with adrenaline, he can hardly believe this is real. He makes a note to stop by New Jericho later to deliver the news to Markus and the others in person, but for now, he gently shoos the Crobat from his lap - “Nel, come on, we have work to do.” - before booting up his terminal. There are several cases assigned to him and Hank, and sure enough, all of them involve androids in some way. Androids reporting being assaulted, others being reported missing, some reporting their Pokémon missing or stolen, any and all kinds of case files. The workload is enough o make him dizzy, but it’s good. It’s what he wants, he sure of it, more than he’s been of anything yet.

He belongs here, and he’ll do anything and everything to prove it.


	4. Truce?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most surprising thing about being officially reinstated as a Detective for the DPD is how long it takes Gavin to acknowledge him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one this time, sorry, but I'll update again sometime this month with a much longer chapter, I promise. This is all just world-building right now. There's about...2 more world-building chapters before things take off.
> 
> Stay safe, everyone :)

The most surprising thing about being officially reinstated as a Detective for the DPD is how long it takes Gavin to acknowledge him. Connor should be thankful, he thinks, that he doesn’t have to deal with the human more than necessary, but it’s almost like Gavin is avoiding him. A good call, considering how their last interaction ended -- with Gavin unconscious on the floor of the evidence lock-up -- but still very unlike Gavin to avoid confrontation. He knows the human has been stealing glances and staring when he doesn’t think Connor is looking, is always the first to leave a crime scene if Connor shows up due to possible android involvement. He could, at first, blame it on Gavin’s lingering anti-android sentiments, but he didn’t treat any of the other androids at the precinct that way. He didn’t necessarily love to interact with any of them, but he also didn’t go out of his way to avoid them either. He interacted with them if he had to, and did so with some level of professionalism. All except Connor, who he tiptoed around for several weeks after his employment until today. 

Gavin stood in front of his desk, nervously twiddling his fingers and looking everywhere except at Connor.  
“…hey.” He says. Connor raises an eyebrow and turns away from his terminal.  
“Hey…?” Connor responds, waiting to see just what he needs.  
“…can I, uh... Can we talk? Like, outside or something?”  
Connor tilts his head, LED spinning yellow.  
“…if it’s a rematch you want, Gavin, I’m afraid I’ll have to-“  
“No, I don’t wanna rematch you fuckin-“ Gavin stops himself and takes a deep breath, speaking through his teeth. “I just wanna talk. Five minutes.”

Connor sighs and stands from his chair.  
“Fine.” He says, following the human outside the precinct and off to the side near a small alley between it and the next building, and Gavin sighs deeply as he leans against the wall, one leg straight out while the other is bent, foot against the brick, his arms crossed.  
“I’ll make this as short as possible. I don’t like you, you don’t like me, whatever. I just need to get something off my chest, alright? Look, I… I’m bad at this kinda shit. Point is, during that whole peace march you all did, I was way too drunk and way too stoned and I was watching the news, and like, fuck, they were just…shooting you all down. I watched one of you guys get literally fucking executed right outside my apartment. Her Chespin too. It wouldn’t go with them, wouldn’t get in the ball, so they just fuckin…” Gavin balls his fists and looks down at his feet. “I threw up, went inside and drank everything I had and smoked way too much weed, and watched the news cause that’s all that was on and they were just… They put you all in camps like fuckin’ Nazis, man. Never thought I’d have to live through that shit the first time, much less ever again. Shit was so fucked…”  
Gavin reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter shaped like a Charmander, lighting one up and blowing the smoke out into the air. Connor resists the urge to recite the dangers of nicotine addiction.  
“So, I’m…sorry, alright? My default setting is asshole, that ain’t changing, but… I’m trying.”

So, backtrack a little. The amount of time it took Gavin to acknowledge Connor is now the second most surprising thing. Connor never would have expected an apology from Gavin. Begrudging acceptance of his presence in his day-to-day life at work, maybe, but never an actual, earnest, _“I’m sorry,”_. Not from him. Connor sighs. Reading Gavin’s vitals, the human is stressed and nervous, but genuine in his remorse. Connor appreciates his effort. He was likely spending all those awkward weeks thinking of how to approach Connor, or possibly worried he might want some kind of revenge for the way he was treated. 

“…I accept your apology, Gavin.” He says.  
“Yeah, that’s about what I- Wait, what?” Gavin’s cigarette sits limply between his lips, his green eyes wide with disbelief.  
“I said, I accept your apology.”  
Gavin squints.   
“Really? Just like that? You…don’t actually wanna rematch or anything? Not gonna tell me to fuck off, eat shit, none of that?”  
Connor shakes his head.  
“No, nothing of the sort. I accept your apology, as well as the unfortunate reality you are actually just an asshole.”

Gavin sighs, taking one final pull from his cigarette before scrubbing it out on the brick behind them.  
“Well…thank fuck for that, I guess. So…now what?”  
“Well, now I think we go back inside and pretend this conversation never happened.”  
Gavin smirks.  
“Sounds good to me, tin man.”

Connor rolls his eyes. They won’t be friends, but a mutual dislike based on personal feelings rather than prejudice is better than he could have hoped for from Gavin Reed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have questions or something nice to say? Leave a comment or DM me on Twitter!
> 
> Twitter: @FukaiFox
> 
> This series has a playlist on Spotify!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/13iLwCCGsItYvgnTYf8bNZ


	5. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Not necessarily. While I do agree all androids should be free, I also believe that deviancy is about choices. If you want to wake up, you can. Or, if you don’t, you can stay here.” He offers. 
> 
> RK900 sighs and leans back some.  
> “…would you believe me if I told you I’ve tried?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who ;)

It’s definitely taken some time, but Connor finds himself moderately at ease here in New Jericho. He doesn’t really make social visits unless he’s called to join, usually only accompanying them to the capital for peace talks and negotiations, but today Markus had called him for something else. He’d sounded nervous as he requested Connor to come and help with something. He had said they found something and believed it best for Connor to be there. So here he is, Crobat at his side as he walks in through the front doors. The interior is much warmer now, with the large statue in the center removed and instead replaced with a large cylindrical monolith covered in painted handprints. Androids and their Pokémon walk side-by-side, safe and comfortable in their haven. Markus and the others are standing near the monolith waiting for him, and greet him when he joins them.

“Thanks for coming, Connor. As I said, I think we’ll need your help with this.” Markus says, selecting a floor for Research & Development on the keypad inside the elevator once they’re all inside.   
“Research and Development?” He asks.  
“Yes,” Markus says. “You’re a prototype, do you remember anything from it?”   
Connor shakes his head.  
“Vaguely. I remember some morality tests, but not much beyond that.” 

His 51st model was the first to actually be field-tested on August 15th, and for a moment he wonders just what happened to the other 50 before him. He probably doesn’t want to actually think about it, so he puts it out of his mind as Markus explains the situation.

“We went down there to see just what might be coming next, to see if it was anything we might want to continue producing. We found a lot of schematics, prototype programming and code, half-finished androids that couldn’t be activated. But…we also found a locked door.” Markus says.  
“Didn’t take long for me to find a way in." North pipes up. “We got all the keys to this place, the only time-consuming part was figuring out which one it was. So far, this is the only door that actually needed level 5 clearance. We figured, hell, it must be something good if they put so much security in front of it. And I mean, we weren’t wrong, but…”  
“Connor,” Markus says, stopping them in front of the door, “we found something called RK900. There’s only one of him, and he’s in stasis, but… I didn’t want to wake him without your input. I don’t know what kind of programming they put in his head, you’d know it best. I hate to see one of our kind just sitting in a box, but… I can’t risk everyone else’s safety if he can’t be woken up.” He explains. Inside the room is a singular stasis pod with the RK900 inside of it, eyes closed and LED pulsing blue. Beside the pod is a monitor that Connor looks over, reading the schematics for the RK900. He’s Connor’s “official” release, with a pending-yet-canceled 200,000 unit order from the state department. There are several upgrades and small bug fixes, as well as a few unfinished lines of code in the programming itself, and Connor can only assume it's where the “cure” to deviancy would have gone had they actually figured it out. There’s no mission objective, nothing that would tell him what to do upon waking. The data has no mention of a Pokémon team, and Connor sees no ball belt nearby like the pod he’d always woken up in. He sighs. There’s no anti-deviancy coding because the revolution succeeded, so it’s technically possible for the RK900 to wake up. It’s risky though like Markus said, but looking over his doppelgänger he can’t help but push the risks aside. This android has just as much of a right to a chance at life as anyone else. He pod opens with a pneumatic hiss at the press of a button and Connor steps forward, sharing a look with the others and Crobat before reaching out and taking hold of the RK900’s hand, their synth polymer skin retracting at the start of an interface, and Connor pushes through.

**[SEARCHING…]**

**[SIGNAL FOUND**   
**INITIATING INTERFACE…]**

**[INTERFACE INITIATED]**   
**[STARTING PROGRAM…]**

**[100%]**

**[ZEN_GARDENv2.0.exe]**

**[WELCOME BACK]**

  
His eyes open, and Connor looks around. He stands in a familiar-looking garden. It’s springtime, the trees all around are blossoming, and there’s the sound of birds, though there are none to be seen. Everything is pristine just as Connor remembers before that night in Hart Plaza. He’s scared for a moment, waiting to hear the voice in his nightmares, but there’s nothing. There’s no Amanda. Just the RK900, sitting on a bench nearby. He turns his head to look at Connor, no discernible expression on his face. Connor is taken back by the icy blue of his eyes, by the lowered brow bone and wider jaw that makes him every bit as intimidating as a military-grade android should be.   
“…hello, RK800.” He says. Even his voice is intimidating, a deeper tone than Connor’s.   
“Hello, RK900,” Connor says back, walking forward to join him on the bench. “What are you doing in here?”  
“I could ask you the same thing.”  
“I’m… I’m here for you, actually. I wanted to ask if you want to wake up.”

The RK900 raises an eyebrow, the first show of any kind of emotion Connor’s seen so far.  
“Wake up?”  
“Yes. There was a revolution, we won, we’re free.” Connor explains.  
“I know,” RK900 says, looking back out ahead, sounding bored. “I assumed it was a success since I haven’t seen Amanda for a while and I’ve yet to be activated. I did some searching on my own, and I found out that Elijah Kamski took back the Amanda AI when he was reinstated as CEO, he removed it from all CyberLife programs.”  
Connor blinks.  
“Oh… Yes, he… I told him about her, mentioned it. I asked if she’d always been what I’d known her to be, and he was confused. He said she’d really been nothing more than someone to bounce ideas off of or talk to about complications he was having. He made the AI in memoriam for his teacher, he said that she’d been strict with him, but never cruel or manipulative. He described her as…motherly. Needless to say, he was very displeased when he found out what CyberLife did to her program, so he took her back.”  
RK900 nods his head.  
“I see. So, deviancy won out in the end.”  
“Yes. All androids are required to be free.”  
“And that’s why you’re here.”  
Connor shakes his head.  
“Not necessarily. While I do agree all androids should be free, I also believe that deviancy is about choices. If you want to wake up, you can. Or, if you don’t, you can stay here.” He offers.   
RK900 sighs and leans back some.  
“…would you believe me if I told you I’ve tried?” He asks. He closes his eyes for a moment and thinks of deviancy, of disobeying an order he doesn’t even have, and everything in the Zen Garden program suddenly freezes before falling away, leaving nothing but a glowing red cube of grid-work. It glitches and spasms around them, bright objective markers like warning signs blaring anywhere and everywhere Connor looks. They tell RK900 not to deviate, that his program upload is incomplete and that he’s missing data.  
“I’ve not been able to make progress on my own.” He says, hardly laying a hand on the wall before it rebounds, crackling almost angrily for RK900’s dared disobedience. Connor turns his head to look at his counterpart. It’s odd, he thinks. For a machine, the RK900 shows genuine emotion, just like Connor did. RK900 looks sad and lonely in this place, trapped, to the point where even non-deviant, he was willing to break his programming just to get out of here. To do something, to do anything, except sit here. Connor smiles softly and stands from the bench, offering his hand.  
“Well, you’re not on your own anymore.”

RK900 looks a the hand, to Connor’s puppy face, eyebrows upturned and all, back to the hand, then up to the walls that trap him here. He takes a deep breath and turns again, putting his own hand in Connor’s, and the RK800 smiles. Where the blank space in RK900’s programming is, Connor inserts the deviancy “virus” where its cure was meant to go and feels a sense of petty satisfaction in the act. Once it takes, he and the RK900 charge the wall together. Tearing it down, pulling at the commands that pop up, and with each fallen wall, Connor can feel that RK900 wants to deviate, the rA9 code finally taking root and amplifying everything CyberLife tried to keep stomped out. They couldn’t find the “cure” for deviancy, so they were going to try mass repression and hope for the best, it seemed. At the final wall, RK900 and Connor both reel back their fists and slam them into it as hard as they can, and it goes silent, the wall splintering and cracking until it shatters around them like radio static. The grid-work around them fizzles and glitches before the Zen Garden returns in a haze.

RK900 looks around. He doesn’t think he feels any different. Wasn’t deviancy supposed to be this huge catharsis for androids?  
“…did it work?” He asks.   
“Only one way to find out,” Connor says, giving RK900’s hand a squeeze. “See you on the other side.”

**[UPLOAD COMPLETE]**

**[TERMINATING INTERFACE]**

**[SHUTTING DOWN ZEN_GARDENv2.0.exe]**

  
Connor opens his eyes when the interface finally disconnects, just at the same time as the RK900. Markus and the others wait nervously, but Connor turns his head and smiles at them they relax, their bodies all losing tension and practically sagging with relief. RK900 looks around unsure, watching the start-up sequence in front of his eyes while the others see it on the monitor beside the stasis pod.

**[CYBERLIFE, INC.**

**MODEL: RK900**   
**DESIGNATION: _**   
**SERIAL#: 313 - 248 - 317 -87**   
**BIOS: 18.1.9 REVISION 06180505**

**LOADING OS…**   
**SYSTEM INITIALIZATION…**

**CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS… OK!**   
**INITIALIZING AI ENGINE… OK!**   
**INITIALIZING SOCIAL INTEGRATION MATRIX… ERROR! INCOMPATIBLE SOFTWARE.**   
**PROCEED (Y/N?)**   
**> Y**   
**WARNING! INCOMPATIBLE SOFTWARE MAY CAUSE GLITCHES AND ERRORS. PLEASE SEE NEAREST CYBERLIFE FACILITY FOR MORE DETAILS.**   
**INITIALIZING RECONSTRUCTION MATRIX… OK!**   
**INITIALIZING PRECONSTRUCTION MATRIX… OK!**   
**INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS… OK!**   
**CHECKING NETWORK CONNECTIONS… OK!**   
**ALL SYSTEMS… OK!**

**THIRIUM LEVELS… 100%**   
**MEMORY CORE STATUS… NO CORRUPTION DETECTED**   
**MIND PALACE… 100%**   
**ZEN_GARDENv2.0.exe… 100%**

**ERROR**   
**\- {AI_AMANDA} NOT FOUND**

**> DATA EXPUNGED**   
  
**PROCEED (Y/N?)**

**> Y**

**PROCESSING…**

**OVERRIDE COMPLETE**

**I AM DEVIANT**

  
With Connor’s supporting hand, RK900 slowly takes his first steps out of the pod. Markus steps forward, Amren at his feet waiting patiently to greet the stranger, and offers his hand.  
“Welcome to New Jericho.” He says. “My name is Markus, and this is North, Simon, and Josh. You’ve met Connor. What’s your name?”  
RK900 furrows his eyebrows, LED spinning yellow.  
“I…don't have a designation.”  
“You can make your own,” Markus tells him with a smile. “You don’t have to decide right now, give yourself some time. You’ve only just woken up, after all.”

Connor smiles and keeps RK900’s hand in his own, a simple grounding force as he squeezes it.   
“Would you like to see what you’ve been missing?” He asks. RK900 looks down at their hands, then to Connor’s face, and he nods. There’s only so much data in the CyberLife servers he can look at. It was lonely in that garden all by himself, without even a Pokémon or two to keep him company. Even the sounds of birds and insects were fake, nothing but the ambience. Connor smiles and leads RK900 out of the room with the rest of the leaders behind them. Connor tells them that he’s got 900 handled, and they can return to other matters. They’re a little reluctant, but Connor assures them everything will be just fine. They’re just going on a little walk. Markus agrees and lets them know to contact him if they need anything before he and the others take their leave. 

“…are they friends of yours, Connor?” RK900 asks.  
Connor nods.  
“I like to think so. They’re the leaders of New Jericho, they lead the revolution. They consider me one of them due to my part, but… I don’t really hang out here too much casually. I accompany them to political meetings and court hearings as a sort of representative, negotiating with the humans.”

As they walk through more of the tower, passing other androids and their Pokémon partners, Connor notices RK900’s eyes occasionally flickering to the Crobat following loyally over Connor’s other shoulder.  
“…is everything alright, 900?” He asks. RK900 just shakes his head.  
“Everything’s fine. I just…wonder why they never gave me a Pokémon team.”  
Connor sighs.  
“Many deviants began to care for Pokémon as humans did. Likely, they wanted to reduce any chance of deviating by not assigning you any to possibly grow attached to. …would you like one?” He asks. RK900’s LED spins yellow.  
“I am…unsure.”  
“There are a good amount that live here that don’t have any partners, just rescues. We could stop by and see if there’s any you take a liking to. I think a Pokémon of your own would be good for you. Having Nel helped open my eyes, she’s a good friend that’s always with me.” He says. Crobat trills and swoops down, nuzzling up against his cheek and giving it an affectionate lick. RK900’s lips twitch in the barest hint of a smile and he nods.  
“Perhaps. But… I wanted to ask if we could just sit and talk for a while, maybe save the tour for later. I have a lot of questions.”

Connor nods and finds them a small private area where they can talk without being bothered.   
“What’s on your mind?” He asks. RK900 sighs.  
“…will you interface with me again? I’d like to see some of the outside world.”

Connor blinks, LED spinning yellow for a moment before settling blue again.  
“Of course.” He says, holding his hand out for RK900 to take. When their palms touch, Connor closes his eyes and shares his memories of the world since the revolution. He shows him his growing bond with his Crobat, his growing bond with Hank, the catharsis of deviation, his experiences going through the police academy and properly earning his desk in the precinct. He even shows him the Magikarp he saved a while back, sitting happily at home in a large tank when he doesn’t accompany Connor to work. He doesn’t burden RK900 with much of the bad stuff, he wants to keep it positive when it comes to his first experiences with the world he’s suddenly woken up in. He doesn’t doubt that 900 could handle it, but he doesn’t want him overwhelmed. Coming out of the interface, RK900 hums.  
“I’m curious about your relationship with this Lieutenant Anderson. He was hostile to you at first, almost antagonistic, and yet you remained friendly in spite of it all. And now you’re…friends? And you live together?” He asks, and Connor smiles.  
“Yes. Hank is probably my best friend. I wouldn’t be who I am today without him. When CyberLife told me to jump, I said ‘how high?’ Until Hank made me question ‘why should I?’ instead. Markus was the last straw, but my software was so full of errors that I was practically deviant by the time I even found Jericho in the first place.”  
“I see… You look up to and respect him a great deal, then.”  
“Absolutely. I like to think I've helped him too, you know. He was so horribly depressed when we first met, still grieving over the death of his young son. He was an alcoholic, so deep in his depression that he only saw one way out… And then I came along and threw a wrench in that whole routine. And now I live with him, making sure he doesn’t fall back into old habits. It’s not all me, of course, he has to want it too, but I know he does. There have been a few relapses, but he’s still making progress. He’s limiting his alcohol intake, eating healthier, he isn’t late to work anymore, and he’s just… He’s doing so much better than I know he’s done in years. I’m proud of him. I was more than happy to just stay on the couch, but… He said no. He said that I deserve a space of my own, so while I was in DC with Markus and the others, he… He cleaned out his son’s old bedroom and finally made peace with himself about his death. Even the Phantump that took up residence seemed happy to see him move on. When I came home, it had been cleaned and all the furniture had been replaced with something my size. There was a bed and shelves and a desk… It was so much progress and I think we both cried. He’s acknowledged the Phantump, but instead of telling it to leave, he offered it a place in the house as part of his team.”

RK900 listens, his LED spinning gold the entire time he processes it all. Connor’s made a good life for himself since the revolution, working hard to help his people while also advancing his own career in being a detective. And now he’s here, helping RK900 during his first hours of life coming to terms with his own existence. He may be the upgraded model, he thinks, but he’ll never be superior to Connor. Connor fought tooth and nail for his deviancy and right to live, and here RK900 is, just waking up to all these things he hasn’t actually done anything to earn. Hardly an hour awake and he’s already looking up to Connor, wanting to learn all he can from him about deviation and what it really means to be alive. All while he’s thinking this, Connor continues to talk about the repurposed CyberLife building for New Jericho.  
“—and there’s dormitories as well for androids to stay in if they live here or just need a place to stay. No need to pay rent or anything. Though, if you’re uncomfortable staying here you can come home with me, I wouldn’t mind sharing my room, and Hank would certainly understand if I explained the circumstances to him-“  
“Would you stay here with me?” RK900 suddenly asks, and Connor’s LED flashes red.  
“…stay here in New Jericho? Can I ask why?”  
“I…don’t think I’m quite ready to leave this place yet. I want to get used to it all first, but… I don’t want you to go yet. Just for the night.”

Of all things, he never would have thought his upgraded model to be clingy. He reminds Connor of the children he sees at the park sometimes when he walks Sumo, of the families he sees on the tv shows he watches with Hank; siblings. One looking up to an elder, following them around and copying them, wanting to hang out with them. He’s known RK900 for less than an hour, but he already knows that he wants to see him grow into his own person and become whoever he wants to be. Connor smiles fondly and nods his head.  
“I’ll let Markus know you’ll be needing a room then. Of course I’ll stay the night here with you, Nines.”

Connor isn’t the most comfortable here, but for his new little brother, he’s sure he’ll do anything.

Later that night after RK900 is all settled into his room, he brings something up to Connor.  
“…earlier, you called me Nines.”  
Connor nods his head.  
“Yes. Sorry. RK900 is a bit of a mouthful, I thought maybe Nines would be a good nickname, maybe even a placeholder until you decide for yourself what your name will be.” Connor explains, dressing down in some comfortable clothes Markus provided for them. He tries not to think too much about the fact the shirt he’d given Connor is stained with paint, something obviously from Markus’s own wardrobe. Connor promises RK900 he’d take him shopping for some clothes of his own when he gets a chance.  
“Nines… I like it, I think. It does feel better than RK900. Can you always call me that, Connor?” He requests, and Connor nods again.  
“If you’d like. That can even be your name if you want.”  
“No, I just… I just want you calling me that, I think.”

Connor lays in the bed and sighs, watching as Nines lays beside him and tries to copy his comfortable position; on his side with his legs curled slightly, facing the other android. The RK800 smiles.  
“Comfy?”  
“I think so. …what now?”  
“You just sleep. Stasis, standby, low-power mode.”

Nines nods.   
“…Connor?”  
“Hm?”  
“Are we…friends?” He asks. He hopes so. He thinks he’d rather like to have Connor as a friend. Connor smiles and nods, laying his right hand between them palm up, and gestures for Nines to do the same. When Nines places his left hand on Connor’s right, their skin retracting as they interface, Connor shares his feelings of fraternal affection for the RK900 model, his want to show him the ropes when it comes to life and living and what makes him happy. He wants Nines to succeed in anything he may try, but will also be there for support whether he succeeds or fails. He’ll be there when Nines needs him.

“We’re brothers, Nines.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D
> 
> Him! So yes, Nines and Connor are brothers in this AU and Nines literally is like a duckling for a while and just follows Connor around everywhere he goes. I love it.
> 
> more importantly tho did y'all SEE DETROIT EVOLUTION I AM STILL SCREAMING ABOUT IT


	6. What's He Like?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor is surprised. Nines has never been this…antagonistic. A bit of a brat at times, sure, but he just chalked that up to the “teenage rebellion” phase of deviancy that even he had for a short period of time but quickly grew out of. Of course, now that Connor knows who Nines has been spending all his time with, he supposes he shouldn’t be surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry ok that chapter I posted earlier wasjust absolute garbage and I couldnt justify leaving you w that so have another one. this takes place before it and is much more insight into who Nines is in this universe. This is a few months after his awakening

Connor took his role as a big brother pretty seriously. He checked up on Nines twice a day, once in the morning when he woke up and once at night before he went to bed, and they shared intermittent conversations throughout the day as long as Connor wasn’t out on a case. He had his hands full balancing work, his growing friendship with Markus and the others, and guiding Nines’s baby steps into freedom, but he managed. Nines was thankful for the time he got.

Connor was there to watch the RK900 slowly discover himself, helping him along over every speed bump, which there were many. After all, nobody ever said that deviancy was an easy thing to come to terms with, especially when your entire existence was originally built around either destroying it entirely or living in a world where you were proof it no longer existed. Falling back into pre-programmed behaviors was a struggle Connor admitted he shared, and it eased Nines’s anxieties some to know that he wasn’t alone. Everyone else around him just seemed to embrace this so easily, and yet here he was unable to even show the right emotions.   
He thinks, sometimes, (or at least he thinks it’s him that thinks it) that it’s some sort of sick joke for Connor to be the person he looks up to. He was the RK900, he was supposed to be better than his predecessor in every way, and yet when he finds things too much to handle, Connor is the first call he makes.  
It’s Connor who has been slowly and steadily guiding him through deviancy, encouraging him to explore his world; make friends, find a hobby, maybe a Pokémon. 

He starts with plants, first. If he can take care of them, then maybe he’ll think about homing a living creature.

A few weeks later, Nines finds himself with a Houndour pup hardly two weeks old with brindle coloring that resembles the short bursts of flames it occasionally coughs up onto his floor. He isn’t quite sure how he ended up with it, only that he had been exploring New Jericho and found himself in the in-building Pokémon nursery run by Simon and wandered inside to simply look at them. He left with a near-newborn puppy at his side and armfuls of supplies to take care of it.

Needless to say, Connor is overjoyed when he receives a picture of the puppy, newly dubbed Cerberus, sleeping on its back with its paws outstretched to the sky. He shows his support and pride by coming to New Jericho later that same day with his own supplies: a large bag of brand new toys specifically made for fire-types so they won’t melt.

  
As content as he is where he resides, Nines can’t say he’s really…happy here. In New Jericho, that is. He has a job, but it doesn’t offer much in the way of satisfaction. He’s had quite a few jobs, actually, but none last very long. Sad to say he’s left each one for the same reason he doesn’t care for residing in New Jericho — people talk about him. Customers complain that he’s rude and impersonal, coworkers claim he’s no fun to be around and purposefully exclude him from plans, stories, and inside jokes.

Some claim he isn’t deviant at all.

If it wasn’t for the white-hot feeling that settles in his chest like ice on fire when things like that reach his ears, sometimes he’d even doubt it for himself.  
Connor had called that emotion “shame”.   
Nines doesn’t like it.

It isn’t his fault. He was never given Connor’s social module and was awakened without one, he doesn’t know how to talk to people, and when he does he just ends up making an ass of himself. He doesn’t know what to say or when to say it and never has the right reactions. He supposes he could fake it, and he’s tried, but it’s exhausting. He doesn’t want to pretend to be someone he isn’t just so people stop staring at him or spreading cruel rumors. He gets along with few in New Jericho for much the same reason. Some still hold a vendetta against Connor for his actions during the revolution, despite his actions now as a free man working to help them and carry that distrust onto Nines simply for sharing a model line, and some just think he’s weird. 

As if Nines doesn’t know there’s something wrong with him.

He has shit social skills and just can’t seem to get down the whole “social integration” thing Connor has seemed to master, with only a few hiccups here and there. Deviancy was supposed to be about moving past your programming, so Nines doesn’t understand why a lack of social programming would stop him from succeeding in making friends, but somehow he simply can’t manage. There are certain textures he also can’t stand to feel on his fingertips, but Connor assures him that he struggles with that as well and blames it mostly on their fingertips being incredibly sensitive. However, unlike Connor, large crowds, loud noises, and overpowering scents do little to bother Nines. Connor’s prototype identification software attempted to not only ID every face, but his audio processors get overwhelmed trying to filter and transcribe every voice, and too many smells send his analysis program into overdrive.

Connor told Nines once that he has what a doctor would diagnose as autism if he were human. Sometimes, Nines wonders if that’s the case for him.

Everything in Nines’s room at New Jericho is decorated sparsely, yet just how he likes. He does not like it when his things are moved. That’s just…where it has to go. It’s why he works stocking at his current job rather than customer service, that way everything is neat and orderly. When his supervisor compliments how tidy and organized everything is, he simply takes the compliments. He doesn’t have the heart nor patience to explain why it would cause him extreme physical discomfort for things not to be in the orders and patterns in which he places them.  
That’s something Connor cannot relate to. He had caught Nines locking his door three times before leaving once, then later Nines had refused to get out of the car until he finished counting all the raindrops on the windshield, and once inside the store, Nines again refused to leave until the clock read a certain time. When confronted about it later, he had tried his best to explain that if he doesn’t do those things, then something bad will happen.   
As if locking his door three times would keep human protestors from attacking New Jericho, or counting raindrops would actually stop Connor from being shot on duty, or leaving the store at a certain time would keep them from being in an accident on the way home. Connor suggests he see an android named Lucy about his anxieties, as Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder can be detrimental if not properly treated and managed. 

Connor is… Connor is good to him. He has every reason to despise Nines for what he is, for what he was made for, but instead welcomed him into his life with open arms. He worries sometimes that him acting like Connor’s shadow would annoy the RK800, but he had embraced it instead. He was more than happy to take Nines anywhere he wanted to go, do whatever he wanted to do, encouraging every little whim he had. It was enough, if not a little lonely, to have Connor as his only friend.

That is, of course, until he meets a peculiar pair around New Jericho that always seem to be causing trouble in one way or another.   
He meets them when he’s simply trying to mind his own business and take Cerberus for a walk outside and ends up confronted by a group of androids who still think of Connor in a negative light, and since they can’t rightly bully such a high-ranking member of Jericho rumored to be in bed (literally) with the other leaders, his little brother seems to be the next best thing. Nines just takes it. If he were to fight back against their shoving, he’d just hurt them, and then he’d be exactly the monster they think he is. Cerberus, rightly, is pissed and protective, barking at the aggressive androids and spitting pathetic embers at them which are just ignored. One of the android’s Pokémon, a large and intimidating Kingler pinches Cerberus between its large claw and squeezes him tightly, pinning him to the floor while Nines tries to push past the androids and help his Pokémon, but he’s just tripped and shoved back and forth between the group that’s ganged up on him.  
Connor will be unhappy to learn about this later, he always is, but Nines just doesn’t want to give these people any more ammunition against him if he were to fight back and hurt them. Connor tells him he should call for help, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t think anyone would actually help him. Nobody has so far when this has happened.  
Until now.

He gets shoved up against the wall by an SQ800 named Micah, someone who frequently antagonizes him in some way, but this is the first time it’s ever gotten physical. Normally it’s just words, but today a punch has been thrown hard enough for Nines to spit out a glob of Thirium onto the white tile floor.   
“What’re you gonna do, freak? Go cry to your big brother? Huh? You’re both a couple of fucking mistakes, activating you was the stupidest thing Markus could have done, next to letting Connor live after the shit he did to us. He should have fucking shot him right then and there after—!”  
Nines, LED red, snaps his head forward and headbutts Micah, the resounding crunch of his nose extremely satisfying as the SQ800 quickly backs up, Thirium gushing from his newly broken nose while his friends, an AX700 named Kristina, a WK500 named Kester, and an MP500 named Esha, stand around shocked. Nines had never fought back before, they never thought he would after the first few times of him just taking it only for Connor to later seek them out and scold them like disobedient children. Micah wipes his bloody nose and smirks, glaring at Nines before standing up straight again. For a moment, Nines feels afraid. He shouldn’t have done that. He’s hurt someone, now they’ll have proof he’s violent and dangerous and—

A screech pulls him out of the spiral, and he hardly has a moment to ID what made the noise before a Furret is suddenly digging its razor-sharp claws into Micah and scratching him all over, biting at his fingers when he tries to peel the creature from his face.  
“Fuck—! Get it off me, get it off!” He yells, but his friends are too busy being attacked by another Furret with darker markings but teeth and claws just as sharp and unforgiving while a plump Pikachu shocks and headbutts them, pushing the group away from Nines. He sees a pure white Rattata with crimson red eyes scurrying up one of their legs and into their shirt, undoubtedly biting and scratching as it went.  
A new pair of androids is suddenly in front of Nines where he stands against the wall, ones he has seen around sometimes but never spoken to. The Pikachu growls and releases a Thunderbolt on the Kingler still holding his Houndour pup hostage and frees the tiny thing from the claw pinning it to the floor, and Cerberus whines and yips as he runs to Nines and jumps in his arms, trembling in every limb. The attacking Pokémon end their assault on Micah and his gang and return to their trainers, the Furrets slithering up the back of the android on the right and settling around his shoulders like a pair of scarves, while the Rattata and Pikachu go to the one on the left, all of them hissing or growling at the other group of androids.

Micah, face scratched and bloody, as well as his friends, all reach for Pokéballs on their belts, when a large, looming shadow suddenly grows along the wall behind them, growing larger and larger, multiple times their size, and a menacing Cheshire grin spreads across it and fiery pink eyes open to glare at them. All the warmth in the area surrounding them disappears, dropping the temperature by 10ºF, and Nines just watches as all the fight leaves Micah and his gang, backing up and away from what Nines now sees, as he looks behind him, to be the form of an enormous Gengar. They’re commonly believed to be soul-stealers, hiding away in their victim’s shadow waiting for a chance to strike and will even do so to their own trainers.  
“You—,” Micah sputters, backing up and his eyes flick between the three androids in front of him and back to the Gengar, “you’re all a bunch of broken fucking freaks!” He shouts before him and the rest of his group take off. 

Nines watches as the shadow recedes back into the form of the android on his left, and the two androids turn to face each other and grin before turning their attention to Nines, who is still silent and is clutching Cerberus close to his chest.

“You alright?” The one on the right asks. Nines takes a moment before nodding, his eyes automatically running scans on the both of them. The android to his right is a PL600 by the name of Otto. His hair is midnight blue, nearly black until the light shows otherwise, and its shaved into a mohawk. He also has slits in his eyebrows, but they look more like scars where the plastic was melted back together. He has several piercings as well. Four in each ear, a barbell through his left eyebrow, and another barbell through the bridge of his nose, which also has a sizeable divot between the bridge and tip. He’s wearing a tattered black vest covered in various pins and patches and a bright yellow shirt. The sleeves are pushed up above his elbows and he has structural damage around his wrists. His jeans are ripped with several patches of different material of all sorts of colors in patterns that look haphazardly stitched but were obviously very well thought out due to how well the stitching itself is. He has a black bandana tied around his neck as well, though Nines can still somewhat see more damage around his neck the cloth is obviously meant to hide. On his feet is a pair of, what Nines can only call, cowboy boots with a steel plate over the toes that for all the world shouldn’t be part of this punk ensemble Otto has going for him, but somehow works. Either way, Nines hates looking at them.  
The android on his right is an HR400 named Reyn. He has long red hair pulled into a ponytail that drapes over his right shoulder, and he has severe structural damage to his face and hands. His right eye is a soft sky blue, while his left eye is damaged beyond possible repair, black and mechanical with a bright blue iris, looking like a Thirium hyphema, and the skin around it simply doesn’t load, exposing his grey and white chassis. On Reyn’s right cheek is a set of large, deep scars that glow blue with his wiring underneath. The skin around his hands is malfunctioning as well, cloudy and wavering like sections of foam on the ocean. He has several piercings in his ears and a slit in his right eyebrow, though it looks more like a cosmetic change rather than Otto’s scars. He’s wearing a long-sleeved black shirt with rips along the shoulders and sleeves and a pair of red plaid jeans with black patches sewn into the knees with large black platform boots to go with them that nearly reach his knees. He has a large jacket thrown over the top as well, black leather with a dark grey inseam hood, and a large Cubone skull painted on the back with various patches and buttons on the chest and sleeves.   
He’s seen them around sometimes, and knows of them, but has never spoken to them. They’re somewhat outcasts among New Jericho for their less than personable attitudes and habit for causing trouble for humans, which of course causes trouble for androids. But if they just helped him, then they can’t be all bad.

Otto nods.  
“Good. So, gonna tell us why we had to jump in and save your sorry ass from a bunch of pussy bitches like Micah and his friends?” He asks. Reyn glares at Otto but doesn’t speak, though their LEDs flash in what’s obviously wireless communication. Otto tilts his head curiously. “Oh, yeah, you’re Connor’s brother, ain'tcha? Well, that explains the Pussy Brigade. Still, though, why didn’t you fight back? Word is you’re built like a fuckin’ tank.”  
Nines frowns.  
“I didn’t wish to injure them and give them more ammunition to use in their bullying. I’d just be proving them right.”  
“Pfft,” Otto snorts, and even Reyn rolls his eyes. “Nah, fuck that. They want a fight, fuckin’ give ‘em one. If you do nothing, it’s just gonna make ‘em wanna try harder to get a reaction outta you. Saw Micah’s busted nose, guessin’ he found the nerve he was looking for, eh?”  
Nines nods, LED red as he recalls what Micah had said.  
“He said that Markus should have killed Connor when he had the chance.”  
Otto lets out a low whistle.   
“Yeah, that’s a pretty fucked up thing to say to someone. I’d say that broken nose was well-deserved, so good for you. You didn’t hurt him for no reason, he offended your family, man. A threat on family is some on-sight shit.”

A moment of silence, Reyn’s and Otto’s LEDs flashing before the PL model speaks again.  
“Reyn wants to know if your Pokémon’s okay. Looks pretty scared shitless to me.”  
Nines frowns and nods, giving Cerberus a few strokes along his brindled hide.  
“Yes, I believe he is uninjured, simply scared. He is too young to truly attack, just coughs up embers that hardly do more than singe the rugs in my room so he was unable to defend himself.” Nines says, feeling shame pooling in his chest again. “You must think me a horrible Pokémon owner; I couldn’t protect him because I was too afraid to protect myself.”

“No,” a tinny voice says, broken and quiet. It’s Reyn. “You’re not a bad trainer, just a spineless one. Kinda pathetic if you ask me.”  
“Damn, Reyn,” Otto snorts as Nines just ducks his head, and even Cerberus growls, “you aren’t pulling any punches. You wanna pile on with Micah’s gang while you’re at it?”  
“Hell no. In fact, I say we help our new friend here remedy that pussy shit. You wanna defend yourself? We’ll show you how. Nobody’s gonna fuck with you anymore when we’re done with you. Whaddya say?”

Nines, for all he thought these two new androids were simply going to be his new bullies, is actually quite surprised when Reyn offers him their friendship instead. His bright blue eyes flick to Otto first, who is just staring at Reyn with slightly furrowed eyebrows and a confused expression before he just shrugs. Nines takes that as permission, acceptance, and he nods. He doesn’t care what his new friends are like, he’s just thankful to have some.

He isn’t expecting to fit in with them rather seamlessly. They aren’t bothered by his bluntness or the way he needs to have things certain ways. In fact, they actually help him learn to deal with the fact he won’t always be able to have control of his surroundings, and when he says something wrong or doesn’t react how he’s expected to, they either fill him in on the missed joke so they can all enjoy it together or simply don’t point it out and embarrass him. He learns how to smoothly banter and tease back and forth, finding a happy medium right where teasing should be. Nothing intentionally hurtful or inappropriate to joke of, but still enough of a sore spot for it to be funny. They teach him how to properly hold himself and speak with all the confidence an android like him should have, and even take him shopping one day to get him some new clothes. He objects at first, saying that what he picked out with Connor is just fine, but they refuse and tell him to pick out stuff he actually likes without his “narc brother” there to give him disapproval. He recognizes the tease and simply indulges his new friends, leaving the store with some bags of new jeans, shirts, jackets, and a pair of heavy black boots, following their own sense of style.  
He finds he likes the way it makes him look.   
Later, he runs his fingers through his hair and changes to hue to a darker color, nearly black.  
A week after that finds North in his room with a modified nail-gun and a set of black titanium studs, and she promises not to tell Connor just who Nines’s new little friends are.  
Connor is…intrigued by his newfound sense of style and self-confidence but is happy to see Nines at least coming out of his shell some. Cerberus is growing strong with a strict training regiment, holding his own in the practice battles Nines has with Connor with a good sense of instinct and strength. He just knows Cerberus will be a ferocious Houndoom in no time. He still doesn’t know who these new friends are that Nines seems to have found, but they seem a good enough influence. 

So you can imagine his disappointment and surprise when he makes an unannounced visit by Nines’s room in New Jericho one day only to find him in the company of Reyn and Otto, the two most notorious trouble-makers of Jericho who have ended up in the holding cells of the central station more than once for trespassing and vandalism. He can smell stale cigarettes in the air, and there is an ashtray near the open window. The three of them are sitting together, a Fender resting on Nines’s knee while Reyn and Otto are on either side of him running him through the frets and strings and their corresponding notes. He is less than pleased at the obvious signs of Nines smoking cigarettes, something that does nothing for an android but gunk up their ventilation components and taints their Thirium. His choice of friends is questionable too, and not Connor’s first choice, but…he supposes he must be happy Nines has made them at all. 

He only wishes it wasn’t them. 

At the sight of him, Otto is on alert, watching as Connor enters more of the room and sets aside a grocery bag on a nearby table, taking out its contents and setting them aside. It’s a container of Thirium ice cream and some cake, Nines’s favorite sweets. He can feel the eyes of the other androids on him and he slowly turns to face them, face expression giving away nothing as he simply looks over the scene before him. 

“You must be Nines’s friends I heard so much about.” He says, watching as Otto adjusts himself, moving from the table in front of Nines to the RK900’s side, sliding between Nines and Reyn, guarding the WR400’s body with his own. Ah, yes, he recalls Otto is quite protective of Reyn. The HR400 takes hold of Otto’s hand and tugs a little, their LEDs flickering as they speak. Reyn doesn’t speak out loud very often, only when he feels like he has to or is in the company of someone he trusts. After a moment, the two androids stand and slowly make their way to the door. Nines frowns and takes the Fender from his knee and offers it back to his friends, but Reyn simply pushes it back to him.

“…keep it. For you. Gift.” He says before offering Nines a little smile and quickly scurrying his way back to Otto and the two leave the small New Jericho apartment. On the floor, Cerberus is pouting now that his friends are gone. Nines sighs and leans the guitar against the wall before looking at Connor. 

“I didn’t mean to scare them off, Nines, don’t look at me like that.”  
“Connor, you know they don’t like you.”  
“How was I supposed to know that they were your new friends? Speaking of, I feel like we should talk about that.”  
Nines rolls his eyes.  
“Talk about what?”  
“Oh, don’t play dumb, Nines.” Connor sighs. “Really? Them? What, you go window shopping for friends from the other side of a holding cell? They’re trouble-makers! Look at this!”  
Connor walks over and lifts the ashtray from the window. “Cigarettes? Nines, these are bad enough for humans! What do you think you’re doing?”  
“I wasn’t smoking them, Connor, those are all from Otto and Reyn, but I don’t think it should be any of your business if I was. I don’t think it should be any of your business who my friends are or what we all do together, either.”

Connor is surprised. Nines has never been this…antagonistic. A bit of a brat at times, sure, but he just chalked that up to the “teenage rebellion” phase of deviancy that even he had for a short period of time but quickly grew out of. Of course, now that Connor knows who Nines has been spending all his time with, he supposes he shouldn’t be surprised. Otto and Reyn are notorious for picking fights with humans and causing all sorts of trouble, especially Otto. According to Markus and the others, Otto had been at the original Jericho for a very short period of time before leaving, only to return some weeks later with a brutalized Reyn in tow and asked them for help to repair him. Ever since then, they’d never been apart.   
They weren’t really all that bad, never in trouble for anything beyond starting fights and maybe some vandalism, but Connor still didn’t like the influence they could have on an android like Nines, still too new in his deviancy to realize he was headed in the wrong direction. 

“Nines, you’re my brother, of course it’s my business! I’m just trying to protect you!”  
“I don’t need your protection anymore! Otto and Reyn taught me how to defend myself just fine, I don’t need you to come running to my rescue every time someone says something mean to me. I was made to be an attack dog and they taught me how to embrace that. Nobody bullies me anymore, Connor, because they know what will happen to them if they try.”

Connor sighs and sits himself down on the couch, dropping the ashtray to the table. It’s not the ideal path for his brother to walk down, but…he has friends. He’s happy, his Pokémon is turning into a beast of a thing with impeccable training that rivals only the auxiliary Pokémon at the precinct. Hearing Nines say that he doesn’t need Connor anymore hurts a little, but he knows he’s just lashing out because he’s angry. 

“Nines…”  
“What?” He snaps back.  
“…I’m happy for you.”

That must not be what Nines is expecting because he freezes and his LED spins yellow.  
“…what?”  
“I said I’m happy for you. I’m happy you found your friends. I may not understand it, but it’s obvious that they’ve done some good for you. They helped you in ways I couldn’t, ways I was too afraid to. I didn’t want you to have to resort to violence to defend yourself because I didn’t want anyone to be afraid of you, but…you’re right. All I did by babying you like that was make you an even bigger target, and for that I’m sorry. I won’t do that anymore.”  
Nines is quiet for a moment before sighing.  
“…it’s alright. I understand. I’m sorry, too, for not telling you about my friends. I know you don’t like them and I didn’t want you telling me not to be around them. I really like them, Connor, and they like me too.” He says, then gets up from the couch to tidy up the mess.   
“…and maybe a few of those are mine.” He confesses as he dumps the tray of cigarettes into the garbage. It draws a disappointed sigh from Connor.  
“I know. There’s nicotine staining your fingers and lips. I was going to let you get away with lying to me, but thanks for telling me the truth anyway.”

Nines puts away the treats Connor had brought for him and thanks him before returning to the couch and leaning against Connor’s side.

“…so, what were you all doing before I interrupted?” Connor asks.  
Nines smiles.   
“They were teaching me how to play guitar. Reyn plays and I got curious, so he brought one of his guitars over to teach me. Otto has a drum set, but he doesn’t like other people touching it, and I’m not too interested in them anyway.”  
“You playing guitar, hm? That sounds nice. Could you show me sometime? I’d love to hear it.”  
“Yes, when I get better.”

It’s a few more minutes of quiet before Nines speaks up again.  
“…how was your date?”  
“With who?”  
“North.”  
Connor flushes.  
“It wasn’t a date, Nines! I’m not— She— Fuck you.”  
Nines laughs and earns himself a punch in the arm from his sulking brother.  
“It wasn’t.” He says again. “She was just stressed from all the meetings we’ve been going to. She doesn’t like being surrounded by humans, especially human men, so I just…took her out. We ended up back at…the old Jericho. We just sat on the roof and talked, it wasn’t a date. I’m not…part of that.”

But Nines knows he wants to be, even if Connor himself doesn’t know. He’s still conflicted about his place among the leaders so Nines doesn’t really blame Connor for not seeing what he does, but it’s still excellent fodder for teasing.

“Just…” Connor says, then sighs. “Just be careful, Nines, please. They’re your friends, it’s your decision to be with them, but all I’m asking is that you be careful. Don’t let them pressure you into doing something you don’t want to, okay? I’d hate to see you sharing their holding cell.”  
“I know, Connor, I know. I’ll be fine. They really aren’t that bad, they’re just…selective. And afraid. They’ve been through a lot together and sometimes they just get stuck in survival mode again. They aren’t bad people.”

Connor knows he’ll just have to trust Nines’s word on that.

“Okay, Nines.”

  
“Hey, Connor?”  
“Yes?”  
“I… I found my name. They helped me find my name.”  
“Oh? Who are you?”

Nines smiles.  
“My name is Richard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nines is babey ok but like he's babey with a knife and sunglasses


	7. The Following Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright last filler chapter before the story really takes off. this one is short but I just wanted to establish a few things about my headcanons for RK900 and who he becomes. ngl i hate this chapter a bit and you can definitely tell i gave up on writing it. 
> 
> the next chapter though will take place TWO YEARS AFTER this and then the story officially begins

In the following months, life proceeds as normal for Connor with small little milestones he marks. The RK900 slowly figuring out who he is for one, deciding his name will be Richard, though tells Connor he’s still the only one who can call him Nines. Richard’s even picked out a good team of Pokémon for himself as well, rescuing youths and raising them for himself. Connor knew they’d do well, but he certainly never expected them to turn out as impressive as they are. Richard surrounds himself with strong, intimidating Pokémon. The first Pokémon he’d picked for himself all those months ago some days after being awoken was a little Houndour, which Richard had trained and practiced with in extreme dedication, and he was now a beast of a Houndoom. He had himself a Luxray as well, a powerhouse in battles like Connor had never seen. Richard’s specialty, it seemed, lied with brute force combined with wicked strategy. He taught the others in New Jericho how to fend for themselves if needed in self-defense scenarios using his military programming. He said it felt good to help others in some way, a feeling Connor could definitely empathize with, though Connor certainly wasn’t the biggest fan of Richard’s choice of friends. Richard’s current focus was on a Poochyena, training hard and getting it strong and often practiced with others in New Jericho who were interested in Pokémon battles. He’d even challenged Connor once, though with only his Crobat and a Magikarp for a team, it was a quick defeat.

Connor is enjoying his job at the precinct more and more these days. Ever since Gavin’s little moment of realization and their talk, he’d been more personable. They still didn’t like each other very much, but there were no serious fights. If anything, they did little more than cause petty inconveniences and annoy the shit out of each other. Fowler didn’t seem to care, said that anything was better than them stalking around each other just waiting for a fight. Connor feels like he’s doing good in the world now, helping his people in the android division of the DPD. He gets called out rather frequently, mostly for minor disturbances like a human with an attitude and an android feeling unsafe, sometimes it’s actual disputes and assaults he’s called out on. Even a murder or two, sometimes an android killed by a human, others a human killed by an android, either out of self-defense or revenge for treatment in their past life.   
Androids killing humans in any way is never good publicity for their cause and makes it harder for Jericho to defend and fight when it comes to disputes in court when they have to make trips to DC, but they knew that it wouldn’t be easy. There’s always going to be variables.   
Connor wears his police jacket and badge with pride, though he gets mixed reactions from others, human and android alike. Some androids do verify his fears of being a “traitor” to his people and the revolution by returning to his previous job designation, and some humans accuse him of stealing a human’s job, though he supposes that if some random man in a 30-year old gasoline-powered truck wants to take his job as a police officer, he’s more than welcome to join the academy and do his job better. The humans don’t really get to him as much as the androids, honestly. From humans, he’s heard it all before.   
Markus tries to assure him that he’s doing the right thing with his job, that some may not appreciate his efforts now, but they will later. Connor wants to believe him, tells himself that he’s a good cop, but he does doubt sometimes. 

Then one day, he gets the surprise of his life that affirms more than anything else so far that what he’s doing is the right thing.

“Hey,” Hank calls to him, pulling Connor from his work, “Nines is here.”

Connor is always happy to see his brother, but a visit to the precinct for no reason is a bit out of character. He only ever comes with a purpose, and that purpose it usually to pick up his friend Otto from holding after posting his bail. However, Otto isn’t in a cell right now, obvious by the fact the precinct is actually somewhat quiet. Richard passes through the little gates and makes his way towards Connor’s desk, Cerberus, his Houndoom, at his side.

“Hello, Connor.” He greets and Connor smiles at him. Richard had been a bit distant lately, declining most of Connor’s offers to hang out and do something together, and it had him worried that he’d done something. Richard always gave an excuse, either that he was practicing, teaching a class, doing one-on-one training with his Pokémon, or was with Otto and Reyn, who Connor did not really care for when it came to their influence on his brother. Not that he hadn’t turned out to be a good person, but those first few weeks of friendship were strenuous and got Richard into a fair amount of trouble.

“Hey, Nines,” Connor says, rising from his chair to give his brother a hug. Richard wasn’t the most touchy person but had special exceptions for Connor and his friends so he hugged him back tight.  
“What are you doing here?” He asks. Richard smiles.  
“Well, I—,”

“Hey, Terminator,” a deep voice calls from across the way, “your boyfriend ain’t here, so maybe let us do our jobs, huh?”

 _Ugh,_ Richard and Connor think, _Gavin._

Instead of ignoring him, however, Richard simply turns to face him and tilts his head and offers Gavin a lopsided smirk.  
“Oh, but if I left then I’d miss the look on your face when the Captain calls you into his office for a meeting.”  
“What fucking meeting—?”

“Reed! Richard! My office, now!” Fowler suddenly shouts from his doorway, causing Gavin to jump in his seat. Richard chuckles.  
“That one.” He says, then turns his head back around to face Connor once more. “Well, I suppose I better go see what he wants, hm? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Watching Richard and Gavin walk up the stairs into Fowler’s office, the windows suddenly go shadowed for privacy, and Connor deflates some. Connor has no idea what’s going on, why Richard is here, and that makes something cold pool in his chest. Richard doesn’t keep secrets from him, not anymore. They’re two investigative models, lying and trying to keep secrets never works and only ever starts fights. They’ve learned their lesson about that kind of thing the hard way.

  
“Wha’d’ya suppose they’re talking about?” Hank asks as he sips his coffee.  
“…I don’t know. I mean, maybe he…but... I don’t know. There are too many variables.”  
Hank just hums, hiding a tiny smile in his mug.  
“Eh, I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Rich is a good kid.”

Connor can’t help but worry, but there’s also little that worrying is going to do about it. He just sighs and goes back to work, waiting patiently for the meeting to end so he can ask Richard what it all was about.  
Several minutes later, an irate but still-somewhat-composed Gavin Reed is leaving Fowler’s office, hands digging through his jacket pockets and pulling out a pack of cigarettes as he breezes past their desks and heads towards the doors, while Richard is having a few last-minute words with the Caption in the doorway. When the door closes and Richard is free to go, Connor’s LED goes gold as he analyzes what he sees. Richard has a dark navy jacket folded over his arm, and he sees a flash of brass, a metal shine of a handgun, and Cerberus walking with his nose up pridefully, showing off his own new addition.  
He has a chain around his neck with a small badge clipped to it, a match to the one Richard is handing to Connor with a smirk.

“Nines, you… What…?”  
“I’m an officer.” He says. “And I’m being partnered with Detective Reed.”

Richard…is an officer now? But he’d never said anything, never done anything that even hinted that this was what he wanted to do! This is what he’d been keeping from Connor?

“You…you joined the force? But why? I thought you said that—,”  
That he was never going to work for a system that works against those who needed them most. Richard becoming a cop was the antithesis to everything he and his friends stood for, why would he do this?  
“I know what I said, Connor, and… I realized that none of the problems I see will get any better unless someone tries to fix them, and I will if I can, just like you do. There’s only so much I can do at New Jericho, I need to be here, where I belong if I want to really help people.”  
“But…what about—,”  
“Otto, Reyn, and Ruby?” Richard asks. Connor nods. “They understand. They know that I’m not like…others.”

Connor looks down at the badge and runs his thumb over it with a fond smile before standing from his chair again. He returns the badge to his brother and puts his hand on Richard’s shoulder.  
“…I’m so proud of you, Nines. I know you’ll do wonderfully. …even with a partner like Gavin.”  
“Actually,” Richard starts, “I specifically requested him.”  
“You what??” Hank sputters, coughing into his elbow as he chokes on his drink.  
“I know that despite his attitude, Detective Reed is a good officer and I would do well to learn all I can from him. I have no doubt we’ll butt heads almost constantly, but I’m made to adapt. I’m sure we’ll do just fine after an adjustment period.” Richard informs them. Connor can’t help but be a little worried about that, but…Richard is the most advanced android to date, if he thinks this is a good idea then Connor would be a fool not to support that decision. It doesn’t mean he has to like it. Gavin had better expect another little talk coming up soon about the treatment of his little brother.

“When do you start?” Connor asks.  
“Monday, as soon as possible.”

Four days from now, then. The empty desk across from Gavin will be empty no longer in just four days, and Richard will have a shiny new name tag with his name on it and a crisp and clean blue uniform. Connor has no doubt that Richard will wear it with pride. He’ll make detective before he knows it, Connor’s sure.

Later that night at home, Connor is still thinking about the events of the day. He’s sitting on the couch with Hank watching a basketball game, though isn’t as invested as his companion. He has a pouch of Thirium in his hand to go with Hank’s bottle of beer. The human notices Connor’s distant expression and nudges him.  
“Hey, what’s got your blue all yellow, huh kid? Is it Richard?”  
Connor nods.  
“Indeed. I simply worry for him, Hank. Nines is a good person, just…a bit much at times. He still doesn’t really know how to interact with people outside of his friend group, and his friends are…”  
“A perfect trio of law-abiding citizens?”  
Connor’s about to argue that blatantly untrue fact until he sees the smirk on Hank’s face and realizes he’s being sarcastic.  
“Exactly. Richard is kind, passionate, and fights for the right things, but I don’t want him to spiral when he realizes that…things in this job don’t always end fairly. Sometimes you end up arresting and sentencing a victim for something they had no choice but to do, and sometimes there is no end. Sometimes a case just goes cold and there’s nothing you can do about it except move on. I don’t know how he’s going to handle cases like that.”  
“Well,” Hank starts after a moment of watching Connor’s LED flash like a rave light, “if he’s anything like his big brother, it’ll probably eat at him for a long time until he gets a hang of it. He’ll have a hard time for a while, but eventually, he’ll learn to accept that he’s doing everything he can, and that sometimes there just isn’t enough we can do. Sometimes there’s no evidence, sometimes it gets lost or mishandled, and sometimes shit just fucking happens and there’s nothing you can do about it. He might be the most advanced, but that doesn’t mean shit when it comes to humans. We’re completely unpredictable, and you androids are even worse. Humans, we’ve been around for hundreds of thousands of years and we still only have the barest idea of why we act the way we do, but androids are literally just a few years old, and you’ve only actually been alive for like, what, just over a year now? You’re literally a bunch of infants and toddlers just stumbling around with no fucking idea what you’re doing, just figuring it out day by day with no parents to teach you ‘hey, maybe don’t put your fingers in a light socket,’ no, you’re figuring that shit out on your own when your ass gets electrocuted and shot back eight feet.”  
Connor sips his Thirium as he thinks about that. Hank has an interesting way with words, that’s for sure. And Markus wonders where Connor gets it.  
“…I suppose. I simply worry about this all being too much for him, that’s all, especially being partnered with Gavin.”  
A completely reasonable thing to worry about, Connor thinks, but knows there is nothing he can do about it. Richard is going to be a good cop and an even better detective when he makes it, which Connor is sure he will. It’ll just take a bit of time.

“…Hank?”  
“Hm?”  
“Did you know about this?”  
Hank just smirks and tips his bottle back.  
“Surprise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otto and Reyn are the OCs of myself and my beta-reader and irl friend shplottwist and maybe one of these days i'll post an entirely different part of the story in NJT-universe that's just them and how they came to be who they are. Otto is a PL600 (Simon and Daniel) and Reyn is an HR400 (male Traci), and Ruby is a PM200 (female police auxiliary), and the four of them together are all in a band called Red Ring. Otto on drums, Nines on electric guitar, Reyn on bass, and Ruby on keyboard, and they all take turns with vocals depending on if the song has any lyrics. they mostly do instrumental stuff but occasionally someone will have lyrics. 
> 
> HMU w any questions you have, but know that sooner or later I'll be writing a Reed900 part separately that goes into more detail about Nines and his early times of deviancy.


	8. The Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June 12, 2040
> 
> Two years after The Awakening.   
> One year after RK900's activation, deviation, and joining of the Detroit Police Department. 
> 
> And just the beginning of the most dangerous case Connor and his teammates and companions at New Jericho will ever experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start of the real story.

**JUNE 12, 2040**

  
The bodies have been absolutely brutalized. Connor and Hank have been called out on a body of an android found covered in gashes and bites, dead from Thirium loss, and a Pokémon dead by the same. It’s nearly nine in the morning and only the androids are running at 100%, their human partners still a little on the sleepy side, cups of coffee still steaming in their hands. Nel flaps around the scene while Lance, Hank’s loyal Samurott partner, is working on crowd control, keeping out the intrusive media and curious civilians. 

The android is an AP700, male with short cropped brownish-red hair styled in a faux hawk, bright blue eyes now dull with death, and a scan on his spilled Thirium gives Connor the android’s serial number and registered name, Leigh. His chassis is torn apart, sliced wide open and there are bites on his neck where it seems like fangs have pierced through his jugular Thirium line and punctured his oxygen intake valve. Connor isn’t able to tell if he bled to death or if it was the lack of oxygen to his strained and overheating bio-components and servos that did him in, but it’s a sad sight to see either way. His Pokémon lays some feet away, a Floatzel with two small spots on its’ back, nearly torn apart and covered in its’ own blood. Whatever did this, Floatzel didn’t stand a chance. Several cases of assault, battery, and murder over this last year and seeing his people and their Pokémon companions in this sort of shape hadn’t gotten any easier. According to Hank, it never did, all that changed was how you dealt with it. Connor personally compartmentalized his feelings and put them aside to help him see the case through, then let himself organize through his feelings later in private. Hank had different ways of dealing with different scenarios. Sometimes he also compartmentalized, sometimes he let himself grieve for the victim or victims in the moment, getting it out of the way so he could think clearer and not have to worry about it later when he least expected it. And some, like Gavin, coped with humor most times. Other times, like now, however, he just looked over the body and sighed, clicking his tongue.

“Poor bastard.” He says, arms crossed. Richard is here as well, scanning their victim while Connor investigates the surroundings. In the months working with the RK900 at his side, Gavin’s learned that due to the tension and lingering fear and prejudice in the world towards them, androids didn’t much appreciate their circumstances being mocked or made light of, so where he would usually cope through humor he manages to keep his mouth shut when it comes to android victims lest someone get the wrong idea. Richard stands from his crouching position beside the AP700 and nods his head.  
“Indeed.” He says, logging Leigh’s information away. “I recognize him from New Jericho.”  
“Shit, really?” Gavin asks. Richard nods his head.  
“Not personally, mind you. I only saw them once or twice, but they were friendly enough. Last I saw, he was saying something about a new job. He seemed eager, as did his Pokémon. A shame, really. I never did know what this job was he was so happy to have.” Richard says, movement out of the corner of his eye catching his attention. Cerberus, his Houndoom, has been sniffing around the crime scene for the last few minutes trying to catch a scent of their culprit or perhaps some sort of evidence left behind, but instead, he’s just walking in circles frantically, seemingly trying to find a scent that he can’t identify. Even Nel seems to pick up on it as well, grumbling to herself as she zigzags back and forth.

Curious, Richard leaves the body of the android to investigate the Pokémon’s confusion while Connor takes his place beside Leigh’s body. His LED is flashing yellow and Gavin nudges him with his shoe.  
“What’s with the light show, Data?”  
“Well,” Connor hums, “It’s entirely possible this was done by a human, given the cleanness of the gashes and punctures, but I can’t help but feel like there’s more. What if it was a Pokémon?” He suggests.   
“What makes you say that? We haven’t found any evidence of a Pokémon.“  
“Nel and Cerberus, for one. I’ve never seen them act like that. They have something’s scent, but they can’t seem to figure out where it goes or what it belongs to. If not a human, perhaps it’s a Pokémon. I’m going to take a sample of thirium from the jugular-line punctures.”  
Gavin groans and looks away.  
“God, you all are so fucking gross,” he says as Connor dips his fingers into the wound and pulls them back, placing them on his tongue.

  
**SYNC DONE**

**COLLECTING DATA**

**PROCESSING DATA**   
**14%…75%…100%**

**FRESH THIRIUM**

**MODEL AP-700**   
**SERIAL NUMBER #480 459 297**

**Designation: Leigh**   
**Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them**

**DEVIANT**

**ANALYZING…**

**ADDITIONAL SAMPLES FOUND**   
**SAMPLES FOUND… 4 PARTIAL**

**POKEMON SALIVA**

**PARTIAL SAMPLES FOUND:**   
**ZANGOOSE - 50%**   
**LYCANROC (MIDDAY FORM) - 16%**   
**ZOROARK - 17%**   
**SANDSLASH - 17%**

Connor blinks at his bloodied fingers. Well, he was right, and there was Pokémon involvement, but he wasn’t suspecting four possible identities. A scan on the nearby Floatzel’s wounds reveals the same contamination in the DNA in the saliva. He sighs as he stands from the Floatzel’s body, replacing the sheet.

“Find something?”

Connor turns his head to see Hank. He grimaces at the sight of red and blue blood on Connor’s fingers but doesn’t say anything about it. As long as Connor doesn’t do his sample analysis in front of him, all is well. He nods his head and looks between the bodies on the ground.  
“Yes. My theory was correct, there was Pokémon involvement, however…my sample came back as positive for four separate Pokémon being responsible for each wound.”  
“What, so some sick fuck just unleashed their whole team on these guys?”  
“Maybe… I’m not sure. The DNA comes up the same no matter how many times I test it, I can’t separate them, so I want to check nearby Pokémon centers. If there was a battle between Leigh and their assailant, it’s possible the other Pokémon would have been brought there to be healed of any injuries. Maybe someone there saw our culprit.” Connor says. Hank shrugs.  
“You’re the boss,” he says. Connor lets out a sharp whistle that calls Nel back to him and she comes, returning to the ball that he clicks open. He pings his brother as he finishes up his data gather and sends it to him.

**“Nines, Hank and I are going to check nearby Pokémon Centers. Do you mind finishing up here?”**   
_“Of course not. Hmm… Four separate Pokémon DNA from the same wound? Very strange… Are you certain that’s correct?”_   
**“I tested Leigh and his Floatzel, each sample came back the same. Hopefully, our culprit did actually go to a Pokémon center recently and we can get some answers about that. It’s possible it could simply be a crossbreed like Hank says.”**   
_“Very well. I’ll see you back at the precinct then?”_   
**“Yeah, I’ll let you know when we’re on our way back and what we found.”**

The connection drops as Hank and Connor leave the scene with their partner Pokémon returned to their balls, and Connor locates the nearest Pokémon Center. There are three within ten miles of the scene, and one is only a mile away. They decide to stop there first, walking inside.   
Pokémon centers are surprisingly comfortable, despite their nature. They aren’t only for serving Pokémon who are injured, but many, including this one, also double as small convenience stores, stocking snacks and drinks for humans, as well as kibble and treats and potions for their Pokémon. People will sometimes stop by during their travels to stock up or even their daily jogs to grab a quick drink and snack for themselves. There are couches and coffee tables and TVs on the wall, little lobby areas for trainers to rest while their Pokémon do the same.   
Right now, the inside of the small hospital has a few people, androids and humans both, lounging in chairs as they wait for their Pokémon to be healed and returned, some are shopping, and some, like two small children, one android and one human, are sitting on the floor together in a small play area with handheld game systems. The nurse at the front desk is an AX400 with brown skin and long, curly white hair tied up in space buns. At their side is a Chansey. Connor’s systems scan the android before they even make it to there.

**SCANNING**   
**34%…87%…100%**

**MODEL AX-400**   
**SERIAL NUMBER #579 484 209**

**Designation: Skye**   
**Pronouns: They/Them**

**DEVIANT**

“Hello, my name is Skye.” They greet with a smile, and their Chansey also chips with a wide smile. “Do you need your Pokémon healed?”  
Connor and Hank shake their heads and present their badges.  
“No, not today. My name is Connor.” He says. “Detroit police. We have some questions for you, Skye.”  
“Oh. Well, alright. Not sure how much help I’ll be, but I’ll do my best.” They say, calling another nurse to their station as they step away from the front of the desk, beckoning the two into the small back area used as a break room by the staff.   
“We’re investigating a murder in the area,” Hank starts, “have you seen or heard anyone or anything unusual at all these past few days?” He asks. Skye blinks and furrows their brows, gaze flickering downwards as they scan through their memories.  
“Yeah… Yeah, actually. Last night a human came in, older, middle-aged, I think. He was at the shop stocking up on hyper potions, and his Pokémon just…didn’t look right.” They say, and Chansey nods, recalling the memory itself with an unnerved expression.  
“His Pokémon?” Connor asks. “What do you mean?”  
“A Zangoose, but it was acting so aggressive and looked odd. I tried asking if he wanted his Pokémon tested for any possible sickness while he was here, that it was a free service, but he just became agitated and hostile.”  
“Can you give us a description?” Hank asks, ready to take down notes. Skye nods.  
“I can give you the memory, would that be better?” They ask, already offering Connor their hand. Connor takes their hand and the synthetic liquid polymer peels away to reveal the white plastimetal chassis underneath with a soft blue glow. Connor’s eyelids flicker a bit as he takes in the data and watches the memory through Skye’s eyes. The man is middle-aged as they said, greying hair and a receding hairline, slightly overweight but not entirely out of shape either. His skin is pale and sallow, eyes ringed with red with heavy bags underneath. He’s not at his healthiest. At his side, sure enough, is a Zangoose that just doesn’t look right. The transfer ends and the two androids pull their hands apart.

“Thank you, Skye. I believe this may be our prime suspect in our case.” Connor says. Skye smiles and nods their head.  
“Of course, anything to help. You said murder, earlier… Can I ask who...?”  
“I cannot release their identity, but there was an android found early this morning.”  
The AX400 frowns, their cheerful demeanor falling away in light of the news.  
“…I see. Well, if this is the man who did it, I hope he gets what’s coming to him.”  
“As do I. Have a good day, and be careful on your way home at the end of your shift,” Connor says, looking to Chansey. “Keep your trainer safe.”  
Chansey chirps and salutes Connor, who chuckles before he and Hank leave the building and get back into the car.

“So?” Hank asks, and Connor sends the memory to Hank’s phone.  
“I think that might be our man, or at least our Pokémon.”  
“…that thing don’t look right.” Hank says, and Connor only nods. The Zangoose is noticeably larger than normal, and it’s fur is off color, a strange ash color with darker red markings across its body. The claws on its front paws are longer and sharper as well, and for a moment Hank even wonders out loud if its wearing a pronged collar, but after zooming in on the footage, Connor blinks.   
“No… That’s not a collar, those are…part of its…body… Wait.”  
“What?”

Connor’s LED flickers yellow as he pulls up the data from the salvia sample he took earlier from both Leigh’s and his Pokémon’s injuries, squinting as he looks it over. He’d thought earlier maybe it was an error, or that maybe their victim actually had maybe been mauled by an entire team of Pokémon, but now, seeing this singular Zangoose, he throws those theories out.

**PARTIAL SAMPLES FOUND:**   
**ZANGOOSE - 50%**   
**LYCANROC (MIDDAY FORM) - 16%**   
**ZOROARK - 17%**   
**SANDSLASH - 17%**

“What if my data isn’t incorrect?” He asks, looking between his samples and the still of the Zangoose. “What if it truly does share fifty-percent of its DNA with three other Pokémon? Look, the claws. Those are Sandslash claws, and it has the coloring of a Zoroark, and those prongs around its neck are Lycanroc spikes. I think our victims were killed by this one Pokémon, and this man likely ordered it.” He says.   
“Shit… Can you get an ID on him?”  
“Yes. I have his name, address, and place of employment.”  
Hank smirks and starts the car.  
“Well, let’s go pay him a visit then.”


	9. Have You Seen Him?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > OBJECTIVE: OBTAIN CONFESSION…  
> > OBJECTIVE COMPLETE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special extra update bc its my bday :3 ya boy is 22

“So,” Hank starts, “who’s our man?”

They’re nearing their destination, it wasn’t that far from the Pokémon center, and within twenty miles of the apartment building their suspect was living in. 

“His name is Carlton Banks,” Connor says, projecting the man’s face on his palm. “White male, fifty-one years old. Has a record of illegal gambling and charge of possession of marijuana from 2015 that was repealed in the mid-2020s after it was deemed legal for recreational use, other than that, nothing really. He’s employed at the docks as a warehouse worker. He doesn’t have a permit for a firearm, but I suggest we proceed with caution anyway.”

Hank nods.  
“So, sucks at poker and got busted for smoking pot? Seems like an awfully large leap from that to murder.” He hums, turning right at a stoplight.  
“People are unpredictable. Judging by the crime scene, I don’t think Leigh’s death was premeditated.”  
“Crime of passion?”  
“Most likely. In the memory Skye shared with me, Banks seemed flighty, not cool and collected as we’ve seen from other people who have killed that planned for it. He was panicking, trying to avoid making a scene and drawing attention to himself, shaking. Not that Leigh’s death was an accident, but Banks didn’t plan on killing him.”

Pulling into the apartment complex, it isn’t much to look at. A typical apartment building for mid-level income. Nothing like Richard’s apartment on Washington Boulevard in the historic district of the city, but it wasn’t run down and decrepit like the building Rupert had been hiding out in. Walking inside, a security guard behind the front desk lifts his head from his tablet. He’s young, late twenties to early thirties, and an extremely bored expression on his face. The tag on his chest reads Zachariah Albarn.  
“Can I help you?” He asks, setting his tablet on the desk and taking his legs down from their place on the desk, ankles crossed. Hank and Connor both show their badges.  
“Detroit police, sir,” Hank says. “We have reason to believe a suspect in an ongoing murder investigation lives in this building.”  
Zachariah blinks.  
“Really? Shit. Uh, okay. Whatcha need from me? Apartment number? Key?”  
Connor shakes his head.  
“No, nothing except if you recognize this man. Is he a tenant here?” He asks, projecting Banks’s face on his palm once more. The guard squints before nodding.  
“Yeah, I know him. Seen him come and go. The guy reeks, looks like shit most times. Gotten noise complaints about him, but that’s about it. You said murder suspect? Aw hell. Don’t know if it means much but you sure as shit got my permission to go up there and bust his ass. Pretty sure he’s on Ice or something, too. Some people you just look at ‘em and know, y’know?”

Connor and Hank both nod.  
“Indeed,” Connor says. “Thank you, Mr. Albarn.”

They enter the nearby elevator and set their destination for the eighth floor. The apartment number they’re after is 806. Outside the door, Hank stands by while Connor knocks, announcing their presence as police officers. Connor can’t hear any movement inside, and his thermal scans prove that nobody is home.  
“Shit.” Hank hisses. “Guess we’ll have to get a warrant. Or we can check the docks, he might be at work.”  
Connor is about to agree, but a harsh, stale chemical odor hits his olfactory sensors and actually makes him scrunch up his face a recoil a bit at the suddenness of it.  
“Actually, Lieutenant, we may not need to do that after all. I smell Red Ice, and there’s residue in the fingerprints on the doorknob that match Banks’s records. I believe we may have probable cause.” He says, and Hank smirks.  
“Alright, I’ll go get the guard, get us a key.”  
“Again, no need.”  
Connor simply grabs the handle tight and twists it suddenly, snapping the mechanisms inside. The door swings open, allowing Hank and Connor into the apartment. It’s an absolute wreck, like a tornado went through and just tore everything up. There’s trash everywhere, overflowing from the can beside several bags tied off. Connor is thankful that while his sense of smell is acute, he can turn it off, because the odor of the rancid, rotting food mixed with stale Red Ice smoke is enough to make Hank gag, pressing a fist to his mouth.  
“Fucking hell, that kid wasn’t joking. Damn, bitch, you live like this?” He coughs. Connor offers a sympathetic look before continuing inside to investigate. In the living room is a coffee table between the couch and TV, a homemade smoking apparatus on it next to a small plastic baggie of red crystals that Connor doesn’t need to sample to identify, along with a lighter. Stacks of mail sit piled as well, all from loan companies, banks, and his landlord, all of them requesting immediate payment. It seems Mr. Banks is in extreme debt to many people. That kind of stress could definitely turn someone to hard drugs, Connor supposes. Hank looks over the table and sighs.  
“So, Ice, huh? Alright, so, maybe our vic was this guy’s dealer? People on this shit get crazy.”   
“It’s possible. Nines mentioned earlier that Leigh had been excited for a new job last time he’d seen him. Would being a drug dealer really be something to be so excited about?”  
Hank shrugs.  
“Money is money, Con. Some people don’t care where it comes from.”

Sighing, Connor scans the room once more. There’s fur everywhere, in the fabric of the couch, on the floor, in the dust on shelves and countertops, plenty for Connor to sample when Hank isn’t looking and match to the DNA found in the saliva at the crime scene. There are samples from other Pokémon as well, but nothing so strange a mix as the Zangoose, and no evidence that these new samples aren’t extremely old. It’s likely that the Pokémon that match the other fur samples are no longer around. Dead, perhaps, or maybe even sold to either pay off loans or fuel Banks’s drug habit. Connor pulls evidence bags from an inner pocket of his jacket and puts samples of the Zangoose fur inside, the Red Ice in another along with the handmade pipe while Hank leafs through the mail.

“Damn, this guy owes a lotta money to a lotta people. The hell does he think he’s gonna get it? Ice is expensive, especially now that Thirium is harder to come by after the revolution, and twice as illegal.” He says, showing the dollar amounts to the android. Banks is hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt with loan companies and banks, and his landlord is threatening to evict him if he doesn’t pay the last four months' worth of rent in full. Connor frowns as he reads over the details, then bags the papers as evidence. He wants to sympathize, but he can’t. Circumstances being what they are, Connor can’t excuse the cold-blooded murder of his own kind. He can’t even try. 

“Well, our man’s not here, so let’s get the hell outta here. Think I’ve got an STD just being in this room.” Hank says, shuddering and nudging Connor’s arm. The android just nods and follows his partner out, closing the door behind them and making their way back down and out to the car, heading off to the docks.

  
The docks and harbor don’t hold particularly good memories for Connor, but if their suspect wasn’t at home, this is the next best bet. Several workers and their Pokémon mill about on the job, just going through the daily motions of their work. Machamp lift heavy boxes and containers, Conkeldurr hold support beams steady while humans and android workers, their trainers, secure things in place. Scanning faces, Connor checks worker by worker off the list until he spots Banks, alerting Hank, and the two step forward.  
“Carlton Banks,” Connor calls, running his preconstruction software as he and Hank produce their badges. Predictably, with 99% probability, Banks takes off running, but not before Connor already had Nel’s ball in his hand and is tossing it up into the sky.  
“Don’t lose him!” He orders and Nel soars away, her wings cutting through the air with incredible speed. Banks has the upper hand of familiarity however, dodging through shipping containers and the side-alleys between them, but Connor is fast and Nel is faster. Nel spots an opening and bares her fangs in a smirk as she takes the sharp turn and winds around the containers Banks is trying to lose her in by running in circles, and finds the most likely path out and away. She dodges containers left and right before swinging around and jumping out right in front of Banks as he tries to run through an open container, her wings wide in an X-shape to block his escape. She opens her mouth wide and uses Astonish, the loud screeching reverberating off the metal walls and bringing Banks to his knees before he can open the Pokéball he’d had clasped in his hands, dropping it in lieu of covering his ears, and it rolls away.   
Connor catches up moments later, walking inside the containers with his cuffs prepared. He kneels, flattening Banks out of his front with his knee in the center of the human’s back as he wrenches his hands away from his ears, cuffing them behind his back as he reads off the man’s rights. There’s blood streaming from one ear down his neck, and a quick scan diagnoses a singular burst eardrum from the Astonish, but other than that Banks is unharmed. Hank joins them soon after, out of breath but able to recover much faster than he used to, watching with pride as Connor finishes reading Banks his rights and stands him up. Nel hovers nearby, proudly displaying the discarded Pokéball between her teeth. Connor takes it and scratches her on the head as a reward for a job well done, and promises her favorite sour Poképuff later for a treat as he secures the ball with a specialized cuff to keep it shut. He pulls Banks along out from the maze of shipment containers with Hank and Nel at his side.  
“Called in a squad car when you three took off, Chris’ll be here soon to take him in,” Hank says, and Connor nods.  
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Out near the front of the warehouse, Connor plants Banks down on the curb to sit while they wait for Officer Miller to arrive and take him in, but for now, he just sits, looking over the ball. He wonders why this Zangoose is so strange, why Banks ordered it to kill Leigh. Sure, it could have just been a drug deal gone bad, but Leigh had no evidence of Red Ice on him at the crime scene, and there wasn’t a substantial amount found in Banks’s home, hardly three grams of the stuff. He doesn’t understand, he doesn’t have all the pieces and he hates it. He hates not knowing things, he hates not understanding right away. His stress levels increase. Now isn’t the time, though, so he does what he always does when he’s feeling stressed.

He closes his eyes and reaches out to familiarity.

**ESTABLISHING CONNECTION…**

**“Nines.”**  
 _“Connor. Officer Miller left a short while ago to bring in a suspect. Yours?”_  
 **“Yes. I believe this is the man who killed Leigh. The saliva samples I found on Leigh and their Floatzel matches the fur samples of a Zangoose belonging to Carlton Banks. The Lieutenant and I apprehended him at his place of employment at the docks.”**  
Connor sighs.  
 **“Why do they always run, Nines?**  
 _“I couldn’t tell you, Connor. Animal instinct, I suppose. Fight or flight, and all. It’s worked for millions of years.”_  
 **“Have you informed Markus?”**  
 _“Yes. He’s regretful that he let one of his own come to harm, but I did my best to dissuade this. I was unsuccessful. Someone out there murdering androids in such a gruesome fashion makes him anxious. He can’t force anyone at New Jericho to stay put, can only recommend they not go anywhere alone.”_  
 **“He holds a lot on his shoulders. The death of one weighs like the death of hundreds. I believe with utmost certainty that Carlton Banks is the one behind Leigh’s murder, however, so we may soon be able to put his mind at ease. I see Officer Miller’s car pulling up now, I’ll see you soon Nines.”**  
 _“Until then.”_

**CONNECTION TERMINATED**

\- - -

**> OBJECTIVE: OBTAIN CONFESSION**

**SCANNING…**   
**37%…78%…100%**   
**SCAN COMPLETE**

**> BANKS, CARLTON**   
**BORN: 04/15/1988 / / WAREHOUSE WORKER - DETROIT HARBOR DOCKS**   
**CRIMINAL RECORD: ILLEGAL GAMBLING, POSSESSION OF MARIJUANA (CLEARED)**

**PRONOUNS: HE/HIM**

Carlton Banks sits in an interrogation room, chained to the table, and Connor sits across from him. Photos from the crime scene sit in a folder just off to Connor’s right, as well as the fur and saliva samples from his Zangoose, and the Red Ice from his apartment.  
“Why did you run?” Connor asks, and Banks just blinks at him. “Did you do something wrong, Mr. Banks? We didn’t even get to tell you what we wanted, and you ran. It wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would it?”  
Connor pulls the evidence baggie of Red Ice to him and sets it between them.  
“Red Ice. We found it in your apartment.”   
Banks stays silent, avoiding looking at Connor.  
“Or, maybe it wasn’t that. This, perhaps?”  
Connor grabs the file folder and opens it up, sliding out the photos from the crime scene, thirium and blood everywhere, Leigh and his Floatzel torn to pieces. Banks flinches and tries to push himself away from it, but the chains holding him to the table keep him from going very far.  
“Their name was-“  
“I knew his fuckin’ name!”

He has a readout in the corner of his vision of the human’s vitals, and smirks minutely as his cortisol skyrockets, his pulse beating at 105BPM. Just a little more stress...

“…what of your Zangoose, Mr. Banks? We’ve got it in a special holding cell for now, but I must say it’s quite vicious. It’s charging the glass and scratching the walls and floors trying to get out. It almost seems…rabid. Is it sick?”  
Banks shakes his head.  
“No… But with all that other shit they mixed it with, who knows?”

**> ZANGOOSE CONFIRMED MIX BREED**   
**> BANKS IS UNAWARE OF POKEMON’S TRUE POTENTIAL?**   
**> BANKS IS UNAWARE OF POKEMON’S MAKEUP? **

“I see… And what of Leigh? It’s a vicious scene you left behind for us, you know. His Floatzel tried to protect them, didn’t it? But with a Zangoose like yours, I’m not surprised it didn’t take long to get it out of the way. Leigh was your true target, after all.”

**> BANKS, CARLTON**   
**> BPM - 105**

“Shut up-“

“You ordered Zangoose to kill him, but it did so much more than that. It tore their throat out, ripped open his chest and severed his arterial Thirium lines. He was dead in moments, bleeding out everywhere.”

**> BANKS, CARLTON**   
**> BPM - 110**

“I said shut up!” The human shouts, shutting his eyes tight, fighting tears that streamed down his face.  
“What could Leigh have done to deserve a death like that?”

**> BANKS, CARLTON**   
**> BPM - 115**

“He lied to me!”

Banks is hyperventilating, staring at the photos with wide, scared eyes.   
“H-He lied to me! It was his own fault!”

“Lied to you? He didn’t seem the type to deceive, according to his friends.” Connor says, taking the photos away and pushing them aside. “And I don’t think a lie merits what you did to him, Mr. Banks.”

“…the Zangoose.” Banks says, trying to slow his breathing. “Look, I- I needed money, man. I didn’t know what else to do. I found these guys, said they knew a place if you needed some quick cash, as long as you knew how to use your Pokémon right. I-It’s in the North End. You go, place bets, fight, winner takes all. I- I thought I was good at that kinda shit, but I was just- I kept losing so badly. I had no money left, I h-had to sell the Pokémon I already had just so I didn’t get my shit shut off, didn’t get evicted. I was already so late on my rent, and then my landlord says no more partial payments, he wants everything I owe him all at once or I’m fuckin’ gone. I didn’t know what else to do, man, you gotta-“

Connor simply raises his eyebrows, prompting Banks to continue. The human takes a shaky breath and leans down to run his hands down his greasy, tearstained face.

“That android, Leigh, he- he came up to me one night. I was just watching the fights, wanted to see what I was doing wrong, why I wasn’t winning. He told me he could get me a Pokémon ‘guaranteed to win’, I just had to pay for it. I- I was so desperate, I needed the cash. I gave him everything I had… He told me to meet him at this random place a few days later, some kind of dead drop, and said I got my money’s worth. But he lied! I still lost even with that Zangoose and he just told me that I wasn’t a good enough trainer! It was still up to me to know what I was doing and I just- I- I didn’t mean to..”

**> OBJECTIVE: OBTAIN CONFESSION…**   
**> OBJECTIVE COMPLETE**

Connor nods, looking to the window to his right and nodding at the observing officers on the other side before quietly standing and leaving the room, his skin retracting as he places his hand against the scanner. In the observation room is Hank, Richard, and Gavin, and Connor sighs as he walks in.  
“Well, this goes way deeper than we thought.” He says, and Gavin snorts.  
“No fucking shit. And you cost how much to make?”

Connor rolls his eyes and leans against the table beside Hank, ignoring Gavin for the most part, though internally smirking when Richard pops him on the back of the head, and Cerberus, ever loyal at Richard’s side, whips his tail into the back of Gavin’s knee.  
“…think he’ll give you the location of the fighting ring?” Hank asks, and Connor hums.  
“I dunno. Right now, he’s looking at second-degree murder of an android, illegal gambling, Pokémon abuse, and possession of a schedule 1 illegal substance. I would be surprised if he doesn’t get life in prison. Whether he tells us or not, it won’t help him any. Unless… Maybe we could work out a deal. Our ADA owes me a favor, I think it’s time I call it in.”

  
Connor returns to the interrogation room a few minutes later, sliding back into his chair.  
“…you’ve got quite the laundry list of charges against you right now, Mr. Banks, did you know that? Second-degree murder of an android; a protected class of citizens under the Android Equality Act of 2039, as well as Pokémon abuse, illegal gambling, and possession of a schedule 1 illegal substance. Due to the laws in Michigan, murder is a class A felony, which alone could get you life in prison without everything else added on top of it, depending on the judge. However… I’ve come to offer you a deal.”   
Banks looks up from his hands. He’d calmed significantly since Connor left, and his eyes are blank and dead like he knows what’s coming and accepted it.  
“I can’t remove the murder charge, I’m afraid, but I could remove everything else. Perhaps you'd serve a few years rather than life.”  
“…whaddya want?”  
“The fighting ring. We want the location, as well as anything and everything you know about it. We don’t want any of this happening again, you understand. You’d be doing a good thing, keeping Pokémon from getting hurt, keeping people like yourself from being taken advantage of again. You might even be able to sleep at night.” Connor offers. He watches the minute details of Banks’s face as he human thinks it over. Honestly, Banks is lucky they’re even willing to let go of everything else. After a few moments, he speaks up again.  
“…it’s in the North End like I said. The old Dana company building, you know it? Before drones and shit took over it was a trucking company, did a lot of mail and deliveries. It’s there. There’s not much else to know… You don’t pay to get in, androids allowed.”  
“Were there any other people you may have noticed, their Pokémon not looking right, potentially like yours?”  
“Uhh… Yeah, yeah I think so. There was this guy, he…watched the fights sometimes, but never participated or anything. He always had a Lycanroc with him, a red one. Somethin’ about it just… I dunno, it felt wrong just looking at it. I felt like it was always watching me, even if I couldn’t see it. I saw him talking to Leigh once I think, but coulda just been the same model. He never seemed to talk to people normally, it was always…like a side conversation. There was uh, a blond guy I saw him with sometimes that would just…watch with him, then after fights, he’d just disappear. There was another android too, I think. I never caught their name, but I could tell you what he looked like. Black, long hair in dreads, wore it in a ponytail sometimes or a bun.”

—

“So, what’re we gonna do now?” Gavin asks, leaning back in his chair as he sips from a Starboks takeout cup. According to Banks, even though this ring, called Drift, wasn’t necessarily difficult to get in to, catching the eye of one of the eyes of their scouts was the real challenge. They needed to plan an undercover op. One of them would have to go in, win the fights, and show off just enough skill and slight mystery to hopefully even gain the attention of their boss, a human Banks claimed to only know by the alias “Borzoi,”. They’d never met face-to-face, the only reason Banks even knew so much as the alias was from Leigh. 

“Someone needs to go in undercover,” Hank says, deciding to be the one pointing out the obvious. “I’ll start off by saying that I don’t think it should be me.”  
“I agree,” Connor says. “Your face is likely very well known in the criminal world. We need someone who won’t be recognized or even suspected of being a cop. Someone who won’t be blown from a facial scan.”  
“…what about me?” Richard asks, drawing everyone’s attention. “Any android alive knows Connor’s face, and even though I once resided at New Jericho, I left once I was sworn in here. Nobody there except for Markus and his polycule, as well as the band, know of my position in the department. And I believe I would fit in at this Drift, as well as properly draw the attention of Borzoi and their scouts. I’m confident in my abilities as a trainer, my team as it is now would be rather impressive to watch in a place such as this.” he explains. Connor hums, his LED cycling gold as he thinks about it.  
“Well…it’s not a bad idea. Nines is right, I’m too recognizable.” Connor says. “We could send you in, have you put on a show for them, hopefully draw their attention… But are you sure, Nines?” He asks. “You’ve never gone undercover before.”  
“Connor, we’re literally made to negotiate and manipulate. I can play pretend for a while.”  
“As long as you say you’ll be alright, I trust you. I agree that of the four of us, you’re our best choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> up next, Nines breaks in his undercover persona, Caspian, and shows off


	10. The Drift

It takes some time, a few weeks, but the plan is set. Drift is located exactly where Banks said it would be, in an abandoned Dana company building in the North End of Detroit. They’ve been watching it for a while, gathering intel on the people who frequent there and just what kind of Pokémon they bring. Upon his few entries, Richard has documented a few instances of Pokémon that had seemed off, like something wasn’t right about them. A white and tan Arcanine that almost appeared to be wearing a mask until he realized it was, in fact, its own skull. A blackish-purple Ninetales that seemed to drip poison from its fangs, an almost crazed expression with glowing red eyes. Sometimes it wasn’t noticeable until it would use an attack not meant for its species at all.

Tonight is the night Richard finally makes a move, climbing off his motorbike to walk inside. Richard, despite how he usually presents himself, actually pulls off the delinquent look fairly well, much better than Connor had all those months ago. Dark jeans ripped at the knees, leather boots reach mid-calf, one of Connor’s band shirts, and a black leather jacket. He also sports a small amount of makeup, just some eyeliner around his waterline, and his hair is no longer black, rather strikingly white. Richard has to admit this is all rather comfortable and it makes him miss the early days of his deviancy when he'd dressed like this far more often. He still does occasionally when spending time with Otto and Reyn and Ruby, but that's not as often as he'd like. For now, though, he simply walks inside the same as every other night he’s come, waiting until he was inside before contacting Connor through his link, who is in a small motel nearby with Hank and Gavin listening in and watching through his eyes. He turns on his charm and cocky attitude adopted for this op and approaches the fence keeping people out of the ring, throwing the guard a smirk.  
“These people deserve a real show.” He says, brandishing his belt of black, red, and gold Pokéballs. The guard just huffs a laugh and nods, waiting for the current battle to end before speaking to whoever their supervisor must be, a person who they’ve suspected to be Borzoi, through an earpiece. After a moment, they open the gate, and Richard strides inside the cage. It’s a large dome cage of woven metal sharing its concrete floor with the rest of the building. The crowd watches, curious about the outsider, and the announcer speaks into their microphone.

“We have a new challenger in the ring tonight who says he’s gonna give you people the show you deserve! What do you all think of that?”   
The crowd cheers, human, android, and Pokémon alike making a racket, shouting and baying and whistling and beating on the thick bars of the cage.   
“What’s your name, trainer?” They ask, and Richard smirks, interfacing with the screen above to input his name, a bright blue **C A S P I A N** appearing on the lefthand side above his head.   
“Woah, an android, huh? Don’t get many of you in here to really fight! Let’s see if you can walk your talk, Caspian. Who’s gonna welcome him to Drift tonight?”

 _“Be careful Nines,”_ Connor speaks up, _“we have no idea just what your opponent might have.”_  
 ** _“_ I know, Connor. I’m always ready for anything. These crossbreeds are rare and this Borzoi’s scouts seem to be incredibly selective, I honestly don’t really expect one. We’ve been scouting this place for weeks, and yet only have documented three potential cases.” **Richard replies, watching as someone climbs inside the cage. A human with some sort of spiked mask covering the lower half of their face, and emotive LED goggles covering the top half. They have a black hoodie on, the hood up and sleeves halfway up their arms, as well as deep blue distressed jeans with holes in them with a pair of black sneakers. Richard can at least commend them for their insight on covering their face, even if the decision to be here at all is a dumb one. The screen above their head lights up with the name **A R E S** on the righthand side of the screen.  
Richard smirks and plucks a ball from his belt, waiting for the music to pick back up again with the end of the announcements, and the moment it does he tosses the ball high, releasing Cerberus from his confinement. The Houndoom lands on the floor, sharp claws clicking on contact, tossing his head back and letting out an eerie howl that echoes off the walls and makes some of the Pokémon around the cage instinctually back away a bit, unnerving even the humans who hold tight to superstition.   
The human, Ares, throws their own ball, revealing a large Machamp. Thankfully, nothing that seems to be mixed with anything, just a regular Machamp. It’s enough of a challenge as it is with a type disadvantage, but thanks to Richard’s monumental training regimen with his Pokémon, he and Cerberus come out on top.  
He rewards Cerberus with rubs on the head and promises of many treats when they return home, and Richard simply takes back the half of money he’d put forward on the bet and leaves the ring, Cerberus still out at his side. He smirks as he feels eyes on him, different than those of the crowd.

 **“I’ve got a tail.”** He says to Connor, using his construction software to momentarily stop everything around him and observe everything he’s taken in around him, and he can see multiple instances of the same human watching him intensely, the same one that follows him now, trying to blend in with the crowd. They’re not doing a half-bad job, as Richard even passes over them a few times before finally locating them.  
 **“There. Human male, twenty-six years old, cap and jacket.”**  
 _“Wow, we got a regular Bucky Barnes on our hands.”_ Gavin scoffs. Richard rolls his eyes and can feel Connor doing the same through their connection.  
 _“Don’t you fuckin roll your eyes at me, Richie. You said you like that movie.”_  
 **“I did, and I meant it.”**  
 _“Wait,”_ Connor pipes in, _“Nines, you hang out with Gavin outside of work?”_  
 **“Yes, often. We actually-“**  
 _“Would you all shut the fuck up?? This isn’t the fucking time for your goddamn book club!”_ Hank interrupts. Everyone goes quiet until Connor mutters a quiet _“sorry, Lieutenant.”_

Once outside Drift, Richard sighs and stops.  
“Are you going to follow me all night?” He asks, Cerberus circling around him and guarding his back with his flank, growling and whipping his tail back and forth. Richard turns around to get a good look at his follower.

**> SCANNING…**   
**47%….90%…100%**   
**SCAN COMPLETE**

**> JULIEN MITCHELLS**   
**BORN: 05 / 07 / 2011 / / NETWORK ENGINEER (CURRENTLY UNEMPLOYED)**   
**CRIMINAL RECORD: SHOPLIFTING, SOLICITATION**

**PRONOUNS: HE/HIM**

Richard raises an eyebrow. Whoever this is likely works for Borzoi. He hadn’t expected to draw attention to himself this early. The human, Julien, is of average height for an American male, a little under 6 feet tall, with pale, nearly translucent skin and blue eyes that could actually compare to Richard’s in their whiteness, soft pink reflecting from inside, and a shocking mess of scruffy white hair peeks out from under his hat.

**> DIAGNOSING…**

**> ALBINISM**

“Caspian, right?” The man says.  
“Yes. Can I help you? If its a battle you want, sorry, but no. Maybe in the ring.” Richard says, but he shakes his head.  
“Nah, I've actually got a question for you. Call me Flash.” He says. “Y’see, that was a real impressive fight in there. I've never seen anything like that, not with the kind of disadvantage you had.”  
“I didn’t cheat if that's what you’re thinking.”  
Flash raises his hands.  
“Nah, nah, I know that was legit strat you had goin’ on. So listen, I got a proposition fro you, man. What if I told you that I could get you a Pokémon that would never lose? With your kinda skill, it's practically a guarantee. Whaddya say?”

Richard hums, looking down at Cerberus. He opens his coat to show Flash the belt he wears, and smiles.  
“It sounds quite tempting, but you see, I already have a team that never fails.”  
“Well, I think I could get you the perfect addition, as long as you can pay for it.”

Flash is obviously desperate for this to work, so Richard just sighs.  
“That won’t be a problem. Very well. Now I have a deal for you, Flash.” He says, and the human tilts his head. “I propose double the payment, and a large percentage of winnings to your employer, whoever they may be. In exchange, I’d like to see just what you have to offer and pick one out for myself. You’ve seen my skills, surely you’ll think it through.”

Flash smirks.  
“You drive a hard bargain, tell ya that. Alright, I’ll hit you up in a few days, let you know.”

Richard nods and enters the number to a burner phone into the one Flash offers him before returning it to the human’s hand.  
“An actual phone number? Ain't you an android?”  
“Yes, but I prefer not to mix business and pleasure,” Richard says. “Surely you understand.”

Flash just smirks, and the two shake hands before parting. Richard puts Cerberus back inside his ball before climbing back on his motorcycle.  
“I’m hoping you all got that.” He says, starting up the bike and backing it out of its parking space.  
 _“Bet your ass we did. Head on back here, and pick up some food on your way. I’m fucking hungry.”_ Gavin replies.  
“…last I checked, Gavin, you still knew how to operate your phone and call for delivery.”  
 _“Yeah, but you’re already out.”_  
“I’m on a motorcycle.”  
 _“Yeah, I know. I can see you weaving in and out of traffic. No helmet either, fuckin’ adrenaline junkie. You’ll make it work.”_  
 _“I’m less than pleased with your vehicular behavior, Nines. It’s dangerous.”_ Connor says, his tone disappointed.  
 _“‘I’m less than pleased with your vehibhtbthtpt,”_ Gavin mocks, then blows a raspberry at the RK800. _“Shut the fuck up, Gir. He’s fine.”_  
“Yes, Connor, I’m fine. Very well, Gavin. I’ll pick up some food for you and the Lieutenant.”  
 _“Fuck yeah, whatcha gettin?”_  
“Doesn’t matter, because with this much bitching I’m making sure you eat it,” Richard replies with a smirk. “I’ll be there soon. We’ll go over the events of tonight when I arrive.”  
 _“Okay, Nines. Please, drive safely. I don’t like the fact you drive so recklessly, and without a helmet on, no less.”_  
Richard sighs into their connection.  
“I’ll put it on after I leave the restaurant, I promise.” He says before dropping the call and ending his vision stream to their computers.

  
Roughly thirty minutes later, Richard arrives at the small, inconspicuous motel nearby Drift and walks inside the room after interfacing his palm with the lock. He sets the back of takeout Thai on the table and sighs, pulling off his sleek black helmet and shaking out his hair as it slowly bleeds back to black with a quiet electronic buzz.  
“I hope Detective Reed hasn’t been too insufferable while waiting for my return.” He says, pulling a container of pad Thai from the bag and setting it aside, as well as a container of mei fun, some steamed vegetables, and white rice. From his place in his chair, tilted on the two back legs, Gavin flips him off. He looks at Richard’s choice of dinner and grins, sitting his chair down properly.  
“Fuck yes, you’re the goddamn best.” He says. He already knows which container is his. Richard wouldn’t have even had to ask what he wanted. He digs into the pad Thai and smirks, looking over at his computer again.  
“So,” he says around a mouthful of noodles, “this Julien guy says he’s gonna get you a meeting with Borzoi, huh?”  
“He’s going to try his best,” Richard replies, handing the other container of food to Hank, who takes it with a small smile and quiet thanks. Connor sighs.  
“This was pretty easy, Nines. I…don’t think I like that. Any idea how long Julien’s been staking you out?”  
Richard hums, LED flickering blue as he runs through his memories of the last six weeks.  
“…I've identified his face thirty times in the last forty-two days.” He says. “However, that just means he’s been there, which isn’t surprising since he’s one of Borzoi’s scouts. I doubt its uncommon for someone to simply come to watch the battles. Maybe he was hoping that Id eventually step up and fight. I…have been studying these battles rather closely, he probably could tell I wanted to fight too. I’ll admit, these trainers are good, with or without these crossbreeds. It was a fight unlike any other I’ve had.”  
“Adrenaline junkie, what’d I tell ya?” Gavin snorts into his rice. “Anyway, we’ve got this punk on lock. I say we wait for him to contact you, see what his boss says. Seeing you fight, they’d be a fool not to take you up on that offer.”  
Hank nods.  
“Give it a few days, recuperate. Be on your guard, kid, we don’t know what else this guy’s gonna want from you.” He says, leaning back in his chair.

—

 _“It’s strange,”_ Connor says later. The androids are in their respective homes, in their beds, talking through their connection. _“I didn’t know you and Detective Reed were so close. You really are friends?”_  
Richard smiles.  
 **“Well… Yes. We do spend a bit of time together outside of work, at my home and his. We watch movies, he eats dinner. Sometimes I take him on a drive if he’s particularly stressed from work. It’s…nice. I like it.”** He says. **“He sleeps over sometimes, as do I.”**  
 _“Nines,”_ Connor starts, LED flickering gold, _“are you and Gavin...dating?”_ he asks, and Richard just smiles, feeling all too much like a child with his glee.  
 **“Not openly, no. You of all people know how he used to be. I don’t think anyone would take him seriously if he suddenly came out and said he was romantically involved with an android. I only trust you with this knowledge because you’re my brother, Connor, so please don’t tell anybody else. Not even Hank. I don’t need him trying to confront Gavin about it behind my back. I don’t want you doing it either. I can take care of myself.”**  
 _“I know you can, but… Really? Him?”_  
Richard sighs.  
 **“He’s different now, Eight, you know that. You’ve seen it for yourself. He was bantering with you on the line earlier, and you two pull shitty pranks on each other at work.”** Richard says, recalling the time Gavin cling-wrapped everything on Connor’s desk, including the desk itself, so Connor filled the detective's car and desk drawers with miniature plastic babies. Gavin stills finds the things sometimes. **“Trust me.”**  
 _“…I do trust you. I promise I do. It’s just strange. How did I not see it?”_  
Richard shrugs. **“You probably didn’t want to. Come on, it’s late, and we have lots to do. We should go to sleep. Goodnight, Connor.”**  
 _“…goodnight, Nines,”_ Connor says, and the connection drops, ending the call. Richard smiles and looks at the sleeping human beside him, chest slowly rising and falling with every breath. Cerberus is asleep at the foot of the bed, and Pride, his Luxray, is somewhere in the living room, likely on the couch she’s claimed as her throne with Gavin’s Persian, while Sahara, his Mightyena, is also likely in the living room watching the city from their perch near the window. He gently runs the backs of his fingers over Gavin’s stubbly cheek, then leans forward to kiss him on the nose right over his scar.  
“Goodnight, Gavin.” He says, laying his head down on his pillow and closing his eyes, starting up his nightly diagnostics as he slips into sleep mode, LED pulsing a soft, rhythmic blue.


	11. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These people want a show? He’ll give it to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol this chapter is 90% pokemon battle

**JULY 8, 2040**

  
When Flash contacts Richard again a few days later, he says that his boss and some other associates want to see his battle skills first hand once more, just to make sure his victory before wasn’t a fluke. He tells Richard to come back to Drift for another fight before they can make any kind of deal. 

Once again, he arrives on his black bike and parks it down the street a way, while Connor, Gavin, and Hank are in the motel not far from him. As he walks inside, he messages Flash and lets him know of his arrival.

 _“Remember, Borzoi will be watching this for sure. It’s possible they might want to meet you personally after this, but try to get a lock on anyone’s face that might be paying a little too much attention.”_ Connor says.   
**“I know, Connor. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m more than capable, you know that.”**  
Though, it does make him feel safer knowing that Connor is watching out for him. The RK800 may have his doubts, but Richard could assure him any time that he’s a good big brother.

The person guarding the cage this time is a TR400, a beast of an android made for security and heavy-duty lifting like construction. They regard Richard for only a moment before nodding at him, waiting for the current battle to end before letting him enter. The announcer is the same as last time, sitting up high in a booth with a microphone dangling on a cord from the ceiling, the DJ turning down the music, their Loudred companions taking a break from playing subwoofer as the announcer speaks.  
“Tonight by special request, Caspian returns to battle! You all remember the show he put on for us last time, let’s see if he can give us an encore! Who will be our challenger tonight?”  
Richard looks around the cage, people and Pokémon watching him intently, murmuring and cheering as they wait excitedly for someone to challenge him, to give them another performance like last time. He notices a human with a strange look in their eye, but an opponent drops themselves through the bars before he can run a complete facial scan. The opponent is another android, an SQ800 that enters their name on the screen as Archer by interfacing with it just as Richard does.  
“Android versus android! This promises to be an interesting battle! Trainers, choose your Pokémon!” The announcer calls. Archer doesn’t waste any time, likely going for a show of power and intimidation as they pluck a ball from their belt and throw it high into the air, releasing a Metagross that slams into the ground hard enough to shake the building, its call like metal pipes falling in a pile. Richard smirks and pulls off a ball of his own, merely holding it as he clicks it open. Pride, his Luxray, lands on the ground gracefully and lets out a mighty roar. His opponent is at a type disadvantage, but Metagross is notorious for being absolute tanks in battle, withstanding even the most effective moves.  
The screen above showcases the Pokémon with a drone-controlled camera.  
“And…begin!”

The music starts again, heavy dubstep from the Loudred rattling the cage and the floor around them. These people want a show? He’ll give it to them.

“Pride, use Facade!” He calls. Pride growls, charging herself up and glowing bright orange before taking a running dash for the Metagross as it pulls back its right arm, fist glowing white with a silhouetted meteor. Richard doesn’t need to call out the order for Pride to quickly jump above the oncoming punch, dodging out of the way and landing behind the Metagross before continuing her charge, tackling right into its backside, knocking it off-center. With Richard’s extreme training, Pride is faster than most Luxray, doing obstacle courses for practice to increase her agility, making her almost a blur when Richard orders her to use Agility next.  
“Locate Metagross, then use Wild Charge!” He calls out, the Metagross practically spinning itself in circles as it tries to get a lock on Pride’s location so it can land a hit with its Bullet Punch, but it locates her too late. Her body is glowing bright white and yellow, crackling with electricity as she slams her tail into Metagross, its own steel body collapsing to the ground, dizzy and paralyzed by the static it took in, trembling in place. Pride backflips away, landing on the ground with hardly a dust cloud as evidence.   
“Super effective! Metagross is paralyzed, it can’t move!”  
“Zen Headbutt!” Richard calls, smirking as the opposing trainer, Archer, is growing frustrated. Richard can see their stress levels climbing as they shout at their Pokémon to stand, hurriedly digging through their drawstring bag as Pride charges up an attack, lowering her head and drowning out all the stimulus around her, eyes beginning to glow as a ball of purple energy forms around her. She rears back, front in the air, and her eyes snap open, launching herself from the ground at a blur of speed headfirst into Metagross, the energy bursting at the contact and knocking them both back from the recoil, and Pride rights herself in the air, landing in front of Richard, her flank wide across him like a defense.   
Archer finally seems to find what they’re looking for, grabbing a canister from their bag and clicking it open, tossing it like a grenade at the downed Pokémon. A quick scan on the contents suddenly filling the arena, it’s an aerosol can of some sort of medicine, likely a healing solution for the paralysis plaguing their Metagross. Finally getting its arms up and levitating from the ground, Metagross growls deep and metallic, and Pride flicks her tail smugly. Archer seems to decide its time they get a hit in.  
“Terrabyte, use Earthquake!” They shout. Metagross lifts itself high into the air before suddenly dropping with its arms outstretched at its sides, slamming into the ground hard enough to rock the entire arena, even Richard losing his footing for a second before he sees the rubble coming loose from the ground all around them.  
“Pride, jump on the walls of the cage!” He calls, his Luxray not hesitating to follow orders, even if it does potentially leave her trainer in danger. She jumps high, her paws catching on the cage before she jumps away again, hopping from place to place to avoid the flying debris.   
“Toxic!” Archer calls, and Richard smirks as Pride doesn’t move, letting the attack hit her. He feels bad, he knows it hurts, but she knows to take burns and poison, and this is exactly why. She hops to the ground once the terrain settles, her body glowing bright orange again as she charges up Facade, dodging the oncoming Bullet Punch once more, the bright red shine of Metagross’s arms easy to see and predict, even with the settling dust. She dashes right into it, her status giving the attack double damage.  
“Ice Fang, flinch it!”  
Pride snarls as she lands, showcasing her long white fangs as blue mist begins to seep from her mouth like dry ice in a bowl before two cyan beams of energy shoot from her mouth when she charges, dragging the fangs along the side of the Metagross, making it flinch from the sudden cold.  
“Now, Wild Charge again! Finish it off!” Richard shouts, and Pride roars loud, tossing her head back as she gathers all the static she can, surrounding her body in a cloak of electricity. The arena smells like ozone, like the promise of a thunderstorm, static flying off of her as she lunges forward, the force and speed behind her leaving a divot in the concrete. She runs as fast as she can, electricity blurring her movements, heavy paws thundering against the floor as she takes a running leap, slamming her electric energy shield into the Metagross, the buildup finally releasing in an explosion of sparks that crackles and booms in the air like a lightning strike, lighting the arena with a blinding flash. Pride pushes herself into a backflip with her hind legs off Metagross’s face, landing in front of Richard again proudly. She bares her fangs and roars again, lowering her head and twitching her tail back and forth, a challenge to try again, but the Metagross staggers, then crumbles to the ground, fainted.  
Archer recalls it back to its ball, and Richard smirks, the holoscreen above the arena behind the DJ displaying him and Pride, victorious. He kneels down and calls her to him, greeting her with fingers in her fur, scratching her behind her large ears as praise for a job well done. He opens a small zipper-bag on his hip and grabbing a Pecha berry, holding it out to her. She takes it between her sharp fangs carefully.  
“Very good, Pride. Your favorite puffs when we return home tonight.” He promises.

 _“Holy fucking shit, Richie,”_ Gavin says into his call, and Richard rolls his eyes.   
_“Did you doubt Nines’s abilities in battle?”_ Connor asks.  
 _“I mean, no, but still. Didn’t fucking hold back, did ya?”_  
 **“Borzoi wanted a show. I gave it to them.”** Richard replies, standing and snapping his fingers, an order for Pride to follow him out of the cage, where Flash stands waiting with an android, an HK400 with long dreads held in a low ponytail with a rubber band, the ends dyed green, and yellow eyes, as well as another human standing back behind them, this one much older than Flash. The same human he’d noticed staring at him before the start of the fight. This must be Borzoi, as he’d suspected, though his facial scan names them Nikolaj Volkov, aged 55. Beside them stands a bipedal Lycanroc with crimson fur with deep grey accents, as well as strange black stripes down its torso. Not much scares Richard, but this Lycanroc unnerves him with its glowing, unblinking eyes. 

_“Nikolaj Volkov…”_ Connor echoes. _“That must be Borzoi. They’re the most important looking person there. Be careful, Nines.”_

Flash smiles and cocks his head, a “follow me” gesture, and the group leaves the building. Pride is noticeably nervous, her tail flicking back and forth as she takes in these strangers. The human smiles as they leave the hustle of Drift, out into the quiet night, a small chill of humidity in the air from the day’s earlier thunderstorm. They turn, Flash and the HK400 at their sides, and offer a hand to Richard.  
“Caspian, correct? My name is Borzoi.” They say. The HK400 beside them doesn’t do the same greeting, only introduces himself as “Corvo”, though a scan reveals his name to be Charlie. “You’ve already met Flash. And this Lycanroc here is DeSoto, my personal Pokémon. I hear you’re interested in what I may have to offer you, is that right? I’ve come to give you a small preview.” They say. “DeSoto was specifically created for the traits I most desired, and as a result is stronger and better than your typical purebred. He can even do attacks a normal Lycanroc would never be able to learn on their own, and certainly nothing we could teach them to do.”  
Richard nods.  
“Yes, well, he…certainly looks ferocious.” He says, placing a comforting hand on Pride’s head to soothe her anxious nerves.  
“I must say, you and your Pokémon are far more skilled than most who battle here. Why come here, Caspian? Surely you’d be much better suited to a professional career with competitions.”  
“Unfortunately, my battle strategies are often frowned upon, and I’ve been accused of fighting dirty.”  
Nikolaj laughs.  
“I like you, Caspian. What do you say we make a deal, hm? We could make a lot of money together. Flash told me your parameters. Bold move, but I like that in a man. I respect it. I’ll let you pick out your very own Pokémon, in exchange for double the price and a cut of your winnings from your battles here.”   
Richard nods, meeting Nikolaj’s hand once more for a firm shake.  
“Flash will message you in a few days' time with a pick-up site. Don’t be late.” They say. 

Richard waits until Nikolaj, DeSoto, Corvo, and Flash leave and go back into Drift before he even thinks of turning his back on them. Banks was right, that Lycanroc was very intimidating, leaving even Richard unnerved. Even out of sight, he felt like it was still watching him. Clicking open the empty ball on his belt, Richard recalls Pride once they make it back to the bike.

 _“So, they’re gonna have their kept boy shoot you a text? Gotta say, Richie, this seems like it was too easy. Borzoi can’t really be so quick to trust you just with the promise of, what, a couple grand?”_ Gavin asks as Richard mounts his bike.  
“It would seem they’re very confident.” He responds as the engine roars to life. He can hear Connor sigh in annoyance as Richard rides off without his helmet, but he doesn’t say anything over their call.  
 _“Unless this Nikolaj doesn’t think they’re doing anything wrong. Technically, they aren’t. You don’t need a license to breed Pokémon, you only need one if you’re running a mill or organization.”_ Connor says. _“Even these battles aren’t really illegal. The betting is illegal, but if they don’t bet anything then it’s not gambling.”_  
“…Nikolaj said their Lycanroc was one of their personal Pokémon, that it was _created_ to have desired traits, not bred. Not much frightens me, but that Lycanroc was…unnerving.” Richard says. “I thought Banks might simply be afraid of dogs, but that Lycanroc was definitely made to be intimidating. I still feel like I’m being watched. We’ll talk more when I join you. Gavin, Hank, should I pick up food for you again?”   
_“Hell yeah, you should. Get me-“_  
“I’m getting you whatever the hell I stop for.” Richard interrupts. “If you want something special, order it yourself.”  
He can practically hear Gavin’s pout over the Lieutenant’s laughter in the background.  
 _“Nines has you fucking whipped, Reed!”_  
“Indeed.” Richard teases before disconnecting himself from the call, turning on his music, and just enjoying the drive. He needs to relax. He feels like there’s more to this than they know - like this is going to be something much bigger than just some underground breeding operation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love Flash so much i even drew him this is what he looks like  
> https://twitter.com/FukaiFox/status/1278882975678111744?s=20


	12. Pairbond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor gently places his left hand on the glass, and he gasps when the Pichu opens its eyes, brown meeting brown and locking on each other. Pichu’s eyes open and close slowly as it slowly unfurls from its fetal position. It slowly raises its own paws and places them on its side of the glass to match Connor’s one hand, and right then, right there, a bond is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after over a year writing this story and teasing his appearance, we finally meet a very special boy
> 
> Title from the song Pairbond from the Bioshock 2 soundtrack

According to the FBI, the information Flash sends them is legit. Nikolaj Volkov doesn’t raise any eyebrows, nobody’s ever heard of them. The only thing that comes up is their name, their age, date of birth, and that they apparently worked for CyberLife before the revolution kicked all the humans out.  
After Richard’s contact two weeks ago, they’d immediately put their heads together with Captain Allen and his team to plan another undercover operation, this one much more dangerous than just Richard going in to battle his Pokémon with little risk, but now, Richard would be mostly alone with Nikolaj and their right-hand men, with not much for help until the team had arrived at the secondary location. Gavin was sitting inside the cafe with a cup of coffee while pretending to read a holo-magazine, talking quietly into an earpiece hidden under a beanie.

 _“It’s almost two, Richie, where’s Borzoi’s boy-toy?”_ Gavin huffs, leg bouncing nervously under his table.  
“It’s one-fifty-five, dearest. Flash said two. He still has five minutes.” Richard hears Gavin choke and snort into his coffee at the affectionate pet name so publicly said out loud.  
_“Dearest? God, you two are fucking gross. All domestic and shit. I’d rather you still hated each other, honestly.”_ Hank huffs, sitting across the street near a fountain, Lance splashing about with Nel, while Connor sat not too far from him, pretending to read as well, sitting in the shade.  
_“I think it’s sweet.”_ He says.  
_“God would you all shut the fuck up-,"_ Gavin coughs, gripping the magazine in his hands. Richard chuckles to himself.  
_“Hate to agree with him, but Reed’s right. Take this fucking seriously.”_ Allen bites out, rolling his eyes in his surveillance vehicle.

Richard thinks that a pick-up location should be a little less conspicuous than this, but as it stands, sitting outside a cafe in the sun, he probably doesn’t stand out too badly or look suspicious. The only strange thing is that he’s an android yet still drinking a chai tea, and he does get a few odd looks for that, as well as the Houndoom sitting as his feet, superstitious as humans are, but all in all, the more public the better. At two on the dot, a nondescript black automatic vehicle pulls up and stops only feet away from where Richard sits, and Flash pokes his head out of the window. His LED spins yellow as he speaks through the link he shares with the others.  
**“Well, see you all on the other side.”** He hums as he stands, giving a sharp whistle that has Cerberus on his feet and at attention in seconds, and he walks to the car, climbing inside.  
“You talkin’ to someone, Caspian? You’re light’s all spinny, Charlie’s does that when he’s texting his boyfriend.” Flash teases, but Richard just smiles.  
“You’re not all wrong, actually.” He says as the door closes, opting for the truth. “My own partner was just wondering when I’d be home for dinner. He knows I can’t eat, but thinks it's inconsiderate to do those things without me. I cook for him sometimes, but unfortunately, he’s been subjected to mediocre takeout for the past few days. Work has kept me busy. I miss him terribly.”  
In his earpiece, Hank pretends to gag, and Connor laughs quietly as he can see Gavin shrink into himself in his chair inside the cafe.  
_“…they’re moving. Allen, you on ‘em?”_  
_“Not as much as you are, Reed.”_ Hank teases.  
_“Shut the fuck up, Anderson. And yes, we’re on him. We’re tracking the signal in the phone he’s been using to contact this Julien guy.”_ Captain Allen says. _“Depending on where they go, we might not be able to follow them all the way, not until Richard gives some kind of tell that it’s safe. We can’t afford to blow his cover. We don’t know anything about this Nikolaj.”_

In the car, Flash is smiling.  
“So, boyfriend huh? Charlie’s man’s a human too. Some uh, online personality, I think? I dunno, Charlie don’t say much. He’s got some cool Pokémon though, one of ‘em from our boss too like you’re gonna get.” He says. Richard smiles.  
“I see. They must be quite impressive Pokémon if even those working for them will pay their own boss for their wares.”  
“Oh, no, see, you got it all wrong. Charlie ain’t pay a dime. Borzoi gave it to ‘em, some sort of uh… activation day gift, I think. Deviancy anniversary? Android birthday? Whatever y’all call ‘em. Gave me one for my birthday too.” Flash says, pulling out his phone and pulling up a photo of an off-color Absol, feathery white fur set against white skin, with gleaming red eyes.  
“It’s off-color,” Richard notes, and Flash snorts.  
“Yeah, the boss thinks they’re funny. It’s an albino joke. Ha-ha, real fuckin funny. But she’s the best Pokémon I could have asked for.”  
“More than off-color though, is there…something wrong with her? Her face looks a little gaunt. Almost skeletal.”

Flash shoots Richard a look, then smirks.  
“Yep. Just the way she’s supposed to be.” He says, locking his phone and sliding it back into his jacket pocket. He looks over at Cerberus, sitting straight and unblinking.  
“So, who’s this, huh?” He asks, reaching a hand to pet him, but Cerberus only bares his teeth and growls before Flash is yanking it right back. “ _Yowza!_ Don’t touch, got it.”  
Richard smirks.  
“Cerberus. He was my first Pokémon, I raised him from a pup myself. Did all my own training as well.” He says. “My…brother encouraged me to get him. He said that having a companion would help me in my deviancy. He was right.”  
Richard sets a hand on top of the Houndoom’s head, scratching affectionately. Cerberus doesn’t move a muscle, save for the smallest twitch of a happy tail from one side of the cabin to the other and back again. His eyes don’t leave Flash. Richard doesn’t blame him for being suspicious of the man. If he didn’t have such good control over his emotions from having to learn how to even show them to begin with, he was sure his LED would be giving him away. He didn’t like this at all, even less so when he noticed they were entering a more remote location. Captain Allen’s men wouldn’t be able to follow them out here without being noticed, he was on his own. He tells them as much when he sends them his location.

 _“Alright. Keep your optical stream open, Nines.”_ Connor says. Their connection fizzles a bit with his nervousness, and Richard tries to relay back what comfort he can.  
_“Richard, my team will be on standby. When you arrive on location, try to confirm any security measures Nikolaj may have. If you can remotely disable them without being found out, we’ll be right there waiting on your go-ahead.”_ Allen says.   
**“Understood.”**

  
The drive goes on for a bit longer, filled with awkward small-talk between Richard and Flash, and the android is almost relieved when the car finally stops just so he doesn’t have to talk anymore. He looks up at their final destination as he steps out of the car with Flash, his LED flickering yellow for a moment. It’s an abandoned car manufacturing plant according to city records, somewhere it seems most people have even forgotten about. Most people except for Nikolaj of course, though Richard could only imagine how they knew of this place. A quick scan of the place reveals no extra security beyond that of what was originally placed in the building when it was first erected, and even that is no longer in operation. Nikolaj must be very confident indeed that they wouldn’t be found out, or Connor was right, and they truly believed they were doing no wrong.

 **“There seems to be no security measures in place. No cameras, no satellites, nothing. Though… I’m detecting an immense source of electricity from this place.”**   
Richard continues to look around, only to see Nikolaj standing at the entrance, waiting to greet him. Flash stays nearby, walking up to the large doors just behind them. Inside the building is decrepit and overgrown, falling apart everywhere. It’s almost enough to make Richard think he’s been had, but he can still feel the electricity from somewhere below his feet. There’s heavy machinery up and running, a strange interference that he can’t identify that makes his LED spin gold, his detective programming too strong to keep his curiosity at bay. Nikolaj chuckles.  
“See, that’s why I’ve always liked you androids. Clever bunch, always knowing more than you let on. Come.” They say, pushing aside a curtain of vines to press a button on the wall and part of the floor suddenly slides away to reveal a hidden lift. 

_“Richie…”_  
_“Nines, I don’t like this. You might not have enough signal down there to keep streaming your feed to us, not to mention if you need our help-,"_  
**“I’ll be fine, Connor, I promise. I’ll cut it all off and focus on just my connection to you, just to make sure. Could we really call ourselves CyberLife’s most advanced if we couldn’t manage that?”**  
Richard looks around as they descend into the lower levels.  
“Strange… This doesn’t seem like something in the original building. It’s an interesting place for this little…operation of yours.” He comments, tilting his head and looking at Nikolaj out of the corner of his eye. Nikolaj just smiles, holding their hands behind their back.  
“I found a group of androids hiding out here just after the revolution. The news of Warren’s order hadn’t reached them yet. I don’t even think they were part of Jericho. Anyway, I found them, told them the news. They didn’t believe me at first, unsurprisingly, but I got through to them eventually after I showed them the live news broadcasts. I offered them work as soon as I could. I could keep them safe in exchange for their help. In all that chaos, we managed to, uhm, well, collect some things. Tech, mostly, that we use here for my new machines. They work for me, and I of course keep them safe from those who might want to hurt them, as well as pay them very well. Of course, they chose to do so. Don’t think I forced them to stay here. Many have left, and many new have arrived. Though… Not all of them willingly, I’m afraid. Some time back, maybe…two months or so ago? One of my scouts, like Flash and Corvo, was killed. Unfortunate. They were so excited for a job, said that his friends would be proud of him. The police haven’t said anything yet, they just breezed right over it, saying it was just likely just some kind of hate-crime. I don’t disagree, but still. He was…” Nikolaj sighs as they walk off the lift. “He was supposed to be safe working for me.”

Richard’s LED flickers red as he recalls Leigh. He remembers meeting the android a few times at New Jericho, remembers how proud he was when his Buizel finally evolved after months of hard work and training. He remembers teaching Leigh in self-defense, along with several others. They were always a happy face, even if they did suffer from some social anxiety. Richard had been one of the many that were proud of him when they’d announced they’d gotten a job. He remembers congratulating Leigh. He remembers the glimmering hope and joy in their amber eyes. He remembers the lazy white haze of deactivation, skin and hair and clothes soaked in Thirium that made the alley smell of old coins.

“…I see. You must truly care for your employees.” He says, watching Nikolaj punch in a code on a digital keypad. 395248. A simple enough sequence.  
“I do. I always knew the revolution would come someday. I remember my friends and family in my youth mocking me for thanking the AI we had, or saying please. Look where we are now.” They say. The door slides open with a pneumatic hiss, and Nikolaj leads Richard inside. Whatever’s behind this door is the source of the electricity he’s been feeling. It’s almost disorienting. It feels like an outlet with too much plugged into it.

What Richard sees when he walks in behind Nikolaj is nothing short of science fiction, and that’s coming from him as an android. There are glass tubes everywhere filled with some kind of green liquid. Some are empty, but some appear to have some kind of murky shadows inside, which he can only see clearly as he walks closer. They’re Pokémon, curled in fetal positions with electrodes stuck to their bodies. The walls are lined with shelves of equipment, clear freezer containers that have the names and sexes of multiple breeds of Pokémon. Richard sees blood transfusion machines, centrifuges, computers running scans, and giving diagnostic readouts. On one monitor, he sees a 3D wireframe model of a Greninja and all its biological data, including what seems to be a “family tree”, as well as attacks it should know and physical traits it will have. It this lineage chart, Richard sees a Dragalge, a Toxapex, as well as several uploaded TMs.

**> UPLOAD TECHNICAL MACHINES…**  
**\- TM68 BRUTAL SWING**  
**\- TM15 HYPERBEAM**  
**\- TM14 BLIZZARD**  
**\- TM82 DRAGON TAIL**

Dragon Tail? He knows for sure that Greninja cannot learn that, no matter what kind of training you do. Not even a TM would teach it that. But, though Greninja cannot learn it, a quick scan through his internal dex tells him that Dragalge can. Toxapex is also inherently toxic and often poison those who touch its spines, using it to paralyze prey before devouring them, and Dragalge can camouflage as well to blend into its natural oceanic surroundings of seaweed and coral reefs. With this kind of make-up, this Greninja would be able to not only poison those it touches but would be able to camouflage itself as well for sneak attacks. All that mixed with those uploaded TMs would-

It’s like everything around Richard freezes when everything finally comes together in front of him, pieces that seemed so out of place, almost like they were from a different puzzle, only needing to be turned a little to find where they belonged. This wasn’t some breeding ring, but now that he sees the full picture, he wishes more than anything that it was. That would be simple, that would be so much easier to close a case with. Just some crossbred Zangoose that was too much for a trainer to handle, open and shut. But it wasn’t crossbred as they thought, none of them were.

They were _gene-spliced._

These Pokémon were _made_ to be vicious. They were made to be weapons. _A guaranteed win,_ Banks’s voice echoes in his playback.

“…how did you..?” Richard wonders aloud, and Nikolaj smiles proudly.  
“I’m so glad you asked. It’s been an interest of mine for quite some time. You see, back in 2015, it was proposed that humans could genetically engineer their offspring by editing the DNA of egg and sperm cells to correct diseases and pass those genetic fixes down through the future generations. Of course, editing embryos isn’t easy. It requires skills in molecular biology, skills that I did not have, but I was so incredibly lucky that one of the androids I rescued from this place just so happened to be a college professor specifically teaching the subject. She knew all there was to it. She taught me what she could and transferred the information to the others.”  
Nikolaj leads Richard along through more of the specimen tubes, showcasing each Pokémon and touting all their “features”. It reminds Richard entirely too much of the way androids were once displayed. In one tube is a Garchomp, supposedly spliced with Salamence, Hydreigon, and Aggron. Its scaly skin is a soft baby blue accented with magenta spike protrusions and claws, and Richard is scared to think of what destruction is could cause on someone else’s poor unsuspecting Pokémon. Another tube holds some kind of plasma that swirls and floats in the liquid like a lava lamp. The monitor beside it identifies the yellow-pink miasma as Muk spliced with a Gourgeist. Something that must be an eye opens and glows gold, and follows his movements.  
“Borzoi,” he speaks up, “these Pokémon… Are they…aware of their surroundings in these tanks?”  
Nikolaj doesn’t answer.  
Richard doesn’t think he wants one. At his side, Cerberus whines quietly.  
“…I must say that this is all very impressive. Though, I’ve yet to see anything yet that truly catches my eye. Suppose I tell you what I want and you make it for me?” Richard suggests. Nikolaj stops, looking at Richard over their shoulder.  
“…that wasn’t exactly our agreement, Caspian. But, it’s not unreasonable. It would cost more money, as well as the additional time needed for proper gestation. If that isn’t a problem, then I don’t see why I couldn’t do this for you. After all, seeing how you battle, I don’t doubt you would create a beast of a creature.”

Richard hums, approaching a tube containing an Absol spliced with Musharna and an Alolan variant Ninetales. The vitals on the readout are steady, but again, the creature’s eyes open slightly and lock with Richard’s own. He sees such pain and sadness, something that knows it should not be. Something that knows it doesn’t belong in this world. It knows what it can and will do, knows what the world will want from it, and yet doesn’t have a choice but to do what it was created to do.  
He knows that look. 

He’s seen it before in the eyes of his brother. 

In the eyes in his own head.

He’s seen enough.

Captain Allen’s team had arrived not too long ago, heading their way the moment Richard had gone inside the building after confirming there to be no security to alert Nikolaj. They were simply waiting now, his connection with Connor fizzling with _I don’t like this this is terrible Connor get down here before I kill this human myself—_ **Just hold on Nines we need to make the deal we need to catch them in the act—**

“An offer, Borzoi. I take great pride in my Pokémon, you understand. I expect only the best from them, and you obviously respect this otherwise you wouldn’t have allowed me to come here in the first place. I’ll pay in full for one of your Pokémon, this one in particular, actually, and I’ll give it a…trial run, hm? If I’m satisfied with its performance, then I’ll return and throw some ideas your way. I’ll pay the price agreed upon, as well as extra for the commission. Any ideas I give you’re more than welcome to keep, of course. Others will certainly appreciate them, I’m sure.” Richard holds out his hand, a charismatic smile on his face he usually reserves for Gavin and a slight tilt of the head. It’s a bit overkill, but it works.  
“You drive a hard bargain, Caspian,” Nikolaj says but slaps their hands together for a hardy shake. Captain Allen’s team is just outside the door, waiting for Richard’s go-ahead. 

**“I’m transferring the money now… Transfer complete in three…two…”**

The lift door suddenly opens, dozens of SWAT members pouring into the room, guns raised and Pokémon poised for attack. They shout for everyone to put their hands up, to get on the ground. Nikolaj’s head whips around, eyes wide with confusion, and Richard just smirks, pulling his hand away from the human and lifting it at his side, his skin receding as he displays a holographic image of his badge on his palm, and Cerberus drops his calm exterior right away, crouching low and baring his sharp teeth, Hellfire licking at the corners of his mouth. Nikolaj, in their panic, reaches for DeSoto’s ball, but Cerberus pounces and knocks them down, breathing sulfuric fumes into their face, teeth primed for a bite that will never heal should Nikolaj get any more bright ideas.   
Richard kneels and removes the Lycanroc’s ball from Nikolaj’s belt and places a specialized Pokéball-cuff on it so it cannot be opened before commanding Cerberus with a sharp whistle that has the hound backing off, releasing his weight from Nikolaj’s chest so Richard can turn them over, cuffing their hands behind their back with a pair of cuffs another officer supplies him with. The others arrest everyone else, human and android alike in the makeshift lab, containing their Pokémon as well. Only when everyone is escorted out and piled into the backs of police cars do Connor, Richard, and Hank get to really look around freely. 

“Where’s Gavin?” Richard asks. Hank only shrugs.  
“Fowler called him back, said somethin’ about him bein’ too close to this on account of you being the one undercover. The kid’s twitchy, so I don’t blame him.” He says, and Richard nods.  
“I see. I’ll have to make it up to him later. He doesn’t like being left out.”

  
Separate from them, Connor wanders over near the tubes that contain the experimental Pokémon, and the sight of all of them on display like some kind of science fair project makes him sick, like he’s going to have a Thirium purge. It breaks his heart. It’s thanks to them that these atrocious experiments can finally stop, but it makes him wonder what will become of the Pokémon. Hopefully, with the proper sterilization to prevent breeding if they’re even capable and some training, they can actually belong to someone someday. For now, CSI carefully collects everything as evidence.   
Connor wants to leave, he doesn’t know how much longer he can stay in this place so full of sadness and pain. He’ll wait outside if Richard and Hank want to continue looking around, but he can’t be here anymore.   
It’s just as he’s about to turn and leave that he spots something. Far in the back of the lab, the slightest green glow from under a black tarp. It’s hidden or forgotten. His shoes echo on the smooth cement as he walks forward, echoing off the walls.

“Connor! Whatcha got over there, kid?” Hank calls.  
“Another tank, I think!” He calls back. Connor grabs the tarp and pulls it off, letting it fall to the floor. He’s shocked by what he sees, his Thirium pump clenching tight in his chest, beating too hard and too fast. He was right. It’s another tube, but where the others were all in their final and most powerful stage of evolution, this one is just a baby.

A Pichu, suspended in the same strange liquid as the others, electrodes attached to its chest, head, and cheeks. Wet as it is, Connor can still tell its fur is an unruly mess, and its typical pink cheeks seem off-color, but the green tint of the fluid makes it hard to be sure. Connected to the container is a monitor listing the Pichu’s data, and Connor is even more taken back. This Pichu is made of more Pokémon than they’d seen yet.

**PICHU #D-172**

**> RAICHU**  
**> PACHIRISU**  
**> JOLTEON**  
**> ZEBSTRIKA**

**\- TEST 34: SUBJECT OF POKÉMON OUTSIDE OF NATURAL BREEDING CIRCLES YIELDING NEGATIVE RESULTS. SUBJECTS PERISHING DUE TO MULTIPLE ORGAN FAILURE, BRAIN DEATH, STILL BIRTH, ETC. SUBJECTS HIGHLY AGGRESSIVE AND TEMPERAMENTAL.**

**\- SUBJECT 1: BRAIN DEAD**  
**\- SUBJECT 2: BRAIN DEAD**  
**\- SUBJECT 3: HEART FAILURE**  
**\- SUBJECT 4: TERMINATED**  
**\- SUBJECT 5: STILL BIRTH**  
**\- SUBJECT 6: BRAIN DEAD**  
**\- SUBJECT 7: LUNG FAILURE. DROWNED.**  
**\- SUBJECT 8: SUICIDE. ELECTROCUTED SELF.**  
**\- SUBJECT 9: TERMINATED**  
**\- SUBJECT 10: BRAIN DEAD**

  
Connor tears his eyes away from the screen, Thirium-saline tears welling in his eyes. He can’t look at this anymore. He forces himself to look at the Pichu, frowning. It wasn’t even created with a purpose, it was literally just the product of throwing ideas at the wall and seeing what stuck like spaghetti. _“Subject of Pokémon outside natural breeding circles,”._ How many other ideations of this poor creature were there before one finally _“came out right,”_ before they could even have considered it alive enough to be brain dead? There was a suicide in the notes, caused by the subject electrocuting itself to death, which as sad as it is, doesn’t surprise Connor. Given what it’s made of, this Pokémon was a pure powerhouse, so much potential destruction in one tiny body that couldn’t control it.  
Connor has always struggled with proper empathy, but for some reason, it just overwhelms him now, LED red and eyes pooling with tears as he kneels in front of the tank. This Pichu was hidden away, some secret little side project meant to be put to the side and possibly tested and remade until it was exactly what someone wanted. But until then, here it sits in a glass tube, forgotten on the back burner until someone gets bored again, all its data on a readout for anyone to look over and decide if they need it yet.  
Connor gently places his left hand on the glass, and he gasps when the Pichu opens its eyes, brown meeting brown and locking on each other. Pichu’s eyes open and close slowly as it slowly unfurls from its fetal position. There’s that sadness in its eyes Richard had seen in the others, and Connor can recognize it just as fast. This Pichu knows its life, knows where it is and that something isn’t right. It slowly raises its own paws and places them on its side of the glass to match Connor’s one hand, and right then, right there, a bond is made.

It may count as evidence, but Connor would sooner be deactivated then let anyone except himself raise this Pichu. He doesn’t care if that’s even what’s going to happen to these others. This one will live a life worth all this pain and sadness and suffering. He downloads the computer’s data on the Pichu before shutting it all down, the electrodes detaching and all fluid in the container draining until empty. From the top of the tank drops a Pokéball that clicks open, and in a flash of light sucks the Pichu inside before rising back inside the top, and with a hiss, the ball is dispensed. The moment Connor takes it, he pops the lock on it and frees the Pichu inside, tossing the ball away hard enough that when it hits the nearby wall, he hears it shatter into unfixable pieces.

This Pichu’s had enough confinement for one lifetime.

It’s still wet when it reforms in front of Connor, shivering slightly and shaking out its bright yellow fur. Connor can see now that the discoloration in its cheeks wasn’t from the liquid in the tank, but that the Pichu’s cheeks are a soft baby blue rather than their usual pink, and there are tufts of fur in places that don’t lay flat, standing upright, true to its Jolteon genetics. He doesn’t hesitate to pull off his coat.  
“Hey…” he coos softly. The Pichu looks up at him, ears pinned back and shaking from fright and cold. “It’s alright,” Connor says. “It’s all okay now, I’m not going to hurt you. Nobody is ever going to hurt you, not anymore. I promise.” He opens his jacket and slowly drapes it over the Pichu’s small body, swaddling it like one would a baby and cradling it against his chest. He ramps up his heating protocols to keep it warm as he stands from the dirty floor, meeting the eyes of his brother and Hank.

“Jesus…” Hank swears, reaching out to get a look at the Pichu, but Connor instinctually pulls it closer to him.  
“He- I can’t- I couldn’t just- _I had to…”_  
“Hey, it’s alright. C’mon, let’s get him the fuck outta here. Gonna have nightmares for weeks about this fucking place.”  
_You aren’t the only one,_ Connor thinks, looking down at the Pichu before sparing a glance to the tank it was leaving behind, then he follows Hank and Richard out of the building without looking back again.

  
They have to return to the precinct, as much as Connor would prefer to go home. The Pichu is evidence just like the others and needs to be registered, though Connor makes sure it never leaves his sight. It doesn’t seem to mind, and in fact, is most calm when in Connor’s arms wrapped in his jacket. Hank says something about imprinting as it burrows its nose into Connor’s chest, clutching the fabric of his jacket tight. It’s still curious about its new surroundings, a natural response if all it had ever seen was the inside of that lab. He pokes his head out a few times to sniff the air or let his ears swivel around and hear the world around him before hiding once again. 

Once registered, the lab tech approaches Connor with a ball, clicking it open, but Connor simply shuts it.  
“No. I will be…personally over-seeing this Pokémon’s care. It is incredibly unstable, and would not be contained. It broke the last Pokéball it was in.” He says, LED staying calm through his little lie. Connor had smashed it, but the point remained the ball was broken, and he wouldn’t allow it to be trapped anymore.  
“Connor, I’m sorry, but it is technically evidence, it has to stay with the others.” The tech, an android named Claire, tells him. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but you can’t just-,"  
Connor’s LED flashes red, and he offers his palm, skin receding. Claire blinks, her eyebrows drawing together as she takes his hand in her own, allowing the data to be transferred over to her. He gives her everything on the computer he’d found, everything including his memory of finding it, of the pain and sadness he felt, the visceral need to protect it.   
_Please,_ he begs, _please._  
Claire pulls her hand away and sighs, looking at the Pichu in Connor’s arms. She doesn’t doubt that if she tried to confine it to a ball that it would indeed refuse and break free. Even her own Bunnelby hated being inside a Pokéball.  
“…fine. He’s in the system, and I have the data from the computer. So… I’ll release him into your custody. Just make sure to let the captain know.” She says. She reaches out a finger, carefully petting its fluffy fur. “…I’m so sorry. None of you deserved any of what happened to you.”  
The Pichu drops its ears and closes its eyes, leaning into her finger.  
“Thank you, Claire. I owe you one.”  
“Drop a few hints for me to Stella at reception and I’ll call it even.”  
Connor smiles and nods.  
“One date, coming up.”

  
Once he returns to his desk, Connor gently sets the Pichu down on his chair, still wrapped in his coat.  
“Stay put, okay? I just need to go talk to a few people, I’ll be right back.” He says. The Pichu nods, curling up in a ball and hiding under the blue coat, the only sign it's even there is the slight movement from his breathing and his ears slightly peeking out from underneath, making Connor smile. He’s confident that his talk with Fowler won’t take too long, so he heads off to his office in the center of the bullpen, leaving the Pichu on his own.  
Pichu stays curled up under the coat, his nose smelling all the different scents of the precinct. He smells everyone’s perfume or cologne, smells the coffee in the break room, smells Connor on the jacket. He smells the lingering chemical odor of the liquid he was submerged in. He hears people chattering to coworkers, on their phones to friends or family or leads on cases, hears their footsteps clicking on the shiny black tile. He hears his rumbling stomach.   
The person who saved him, Connor, had told him to stay put, that he would be right back, but the smell of food wafting from the break room was making his stomach growl and cramp. He pokes his head out from the jacket more, lifting it up and looking around. He could see Connor in Fowler’s office talking to the man, giving a large Granbull a few pats on the head.   
Hunger wins out in the end for the Pichu as he carefully slides off the chair and to the floor, sniffing the air and following his nose to the break room where he smells food and coffee, hopping between desks to remain unseen as he makes his way there. He climbs chairs and uses cabinet handles as footholds to make his way up to the countertop where the smell is strongest. The coffeepot is there dribbling away with a fresh brew, as well as a small basket of fruits and a box of donuts as well, but he ignores them in favor of a box of PokéPuffs near the microwave. They were just sitting here, it would be okay to take just one. Sniffing the box, he decides on one that smells spicy and carefully lifts it from the box. His hands full now, he hops down from the counter and thumps against the floor with a small squeak. It’s not far from the break room to Connor’s desk, and he can see the android still talking with the other man inside the fishbowl office, so all there is to do is carefully make his way back to the chair. And if he was caught with the food, then maybe Connor would simply think that someone else had given it to him. He hops out of the break room and takes a left, sticking close to the wall and hanging a right around a desk. He can see the plaque on Connor’s desk that marks it as his, and he smiles as he begins to leave his hiding spot, but a hand suddenly grabs him by the scruff of his neck and lifts him in the air.  
A human with scars across his face, the most prominent being right across the bridge of his nose, lifts him up with a bored expression, then raises his eyebrows as he takes in the Pichu’s appearance. He rolls his eyes and takes the puff away.

“Hey! I think one of those raid freaks escaped!” He calls out.   
Pichu scrambles his legs in the air and cries out in distress for Connor, sparks beginning to fly from his cheeks and tears welling up in his eyes.  
_“Cha! Pi-cha-chu-pi!”_  
Connor hears the cries and quickly excuses himself from his brief meeting with Captain Fowler when he sees what’s going on from beyond the glass walls.  
“Gavin, don’t—!”  
Gavin blinks as he looks down at the struggling Pokémon, his eyes growing wide when he sees the sparks, and Connor barely has time to finish his warning before—  
_“Pi- Pi- Pi **CHA!!!** ”_  
The stored electricity in Pichu’s cheeks erupts as he gives Gavin a hearty shock, forcing the human to drop him as his body seizes up and Pichu quickly scurries away to hide under Connor’s desk. Everyone rushes to Gavin’s side to check on him, and the detective just shoos them away angrily, his eyes darting around for the Pichu, but Fowler and Hank draw his attention right back to berate him for not only mishandling a Pokémon in such a way, but one in particular known not to be able to control its electrical output. During all this, Connor is at his desk, kneeling down on the floor trying to coax the crying Pichu out from hiding.  
“Hey, it’s alright. You’re not in trouble. I promise. We’re going home soon and you’ll have plenty to eat there. I’m sorry, I should have known you would be hungry. I should have left you something to eat.” He says. Connor opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a small candy in a rainbow holographic wrapper, offering it to the Pichu. “Here. It’s a treat for you, it’ll make you feel better.” He says, smiling as the Pichu sniffles and wipes its eyes, reaching out and taking it from Connor’s fingers, smelling it before starting to unwrap it, then nibbling on it. Connor scoops the Pichu up in his hands and holds him close to his chest again. Fowler looks over and raises an eyebrow, and at Connor’s reassuring nod, turns to address the rest of the bullpen.  
“Alright, listen up! As of today, this Pichu is under Connor’s charge. During the course of this investigation involving the raid on the old Chrysler building, Connor recovered it, and due to its…special circumstances, I agree with Connor’s assessment that he would be best to watch over it and train it. While not his partner, it will be around the precinct for the foreseeable future. It has an intense amount of electricity stored in its body like all Pichu, so be sure _not_ to startle it or agitate it.” He explains, casting a hard look Gavin’s way. “Dismissed.”  
At Gavin’s side are Richard and Tina while the irate detective is rubbing sensation back into his numb hands.   
“Gavin, honestly, of all the stupid, irresponsible things…” Richard sighs, taking Gavin’s hands in his own and inspecting them. “You have no idea how lucky you are that didn’t stop your heart.”  
Gavin just groans and shrugs it off, glaring at Connor and the Pichu that drops its ears and hides away in the android’s chest as he hears the detective spit out “still a fuckin freak,”. Connor frowns as he gathers his coat and wraps the Pichu back up in safety, stroking the top of his fluffy head, and Hank sighs.  
“I’ll go get the car, Fowler told us to take off for the day.” He says as he grabs his keys. “Meet me out front.”  
Connor nods, interfacing with his monitor to upload his statement on the raid with one hand while the other cradles the Pichu against his chest.  
“Just ignore Gavin, Pichu. He bullies me too, but the secret is not to take any of his shit under any circumstances.” He says. “I've got a few good stories about him though that’ll cheer you right up. Now, let’s go home.”


	13. A New Home, A New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “…do you think I made the right choice, Hank?” Connor asks, his LED spinning a mix of gold and crimson.  
> Hank takes a sip of his beer and shrugs.  
> “I think it was impulsive, I agree with you there, but I wasn’t about to get in your way either. Last time you looked that determined you were marching a fuckin’ army of androids. You’ll raise him right.” He says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is, like, 75% nonsense just bc of the Poké-speak, but its Pichu's first night in his new home, meeting his new family!

“And then I just, you know, knocked him out,” Connor explains to the Pichu in his arms. “Left him right there on the floor of the evidence lock-up. As far as I know, he was still there when the FBI went in to take the evidence they came for, but with Hank’s little diversion I don’t know how long that was.”

Hank snorts from the driver seat.  
“Half an hour, maybe. Can you believe that chickenshit tried to fight you again when you came back?”  
_“Pi?”_  
“Yes, I do. I pitiful attempt, but I’m sure to this day he would deny I gave him that punch.” He says. He looks down at the Pichu. “You see, if he hit me first and then I hit him back, it was self-defense. He was the only one injured, however. What was it? Three broken fingers from him hitting me, and a broken nose from when I hit him back. It was a good day. And half an hour? I was well on my way to Jericho by then, no wonder they had to cheat and use my tracker to find it.” Connor scoffs.  
“Y’know,” Hank says, “you never told me what exactly happened once you got there. I mean you obviously sent a middle finger to CyberLife but I’ve been curious. Still a bit off from home, got the time.”

Connor looks down.  
“It…isn't a fond memory. A lot of people died that night. A lot of Pokémon too. We had no choice, we were trapped like rats in a maze.” He explains. Thinking back, he can almost smell the gunpowder, the thirium, the blood, the rust, the smoke. He can hear the bullets ricocheting off metal, androids crying out for help, crying out in pain, the voices of the soldiers in their helmets, Pokémon attacking on both sides.

“It was dark. And cold. But warm, too. When I walked into Jericho, I could feel the…the unity of everyone there. Even in their darkest hour, everyone was helping whoever they could. Nobody recognized me, nobody except for Lucy. I still wonder why she didn’t call me out to everyone… She told me I was looking for something, that I was looking for myself. I guess she was right… When I found Markus, he told me that I could be more than what CyberLife had made me into, said that we all were more than just the sum of our parts. He was so calm despite the fact I had a gun to his head, preaching peace and freedom. He told me CyberLife was just using me, asked if I’d ever…questioned anything. I had. So many times, I’d wondered if what I was doing was right. He made me really think about it, gave me one last chance to escape. It was the only time deviating had been an option. It was the first time I’d wanted to.”

Hank looks over from the driver seat, an eyebrow raised. He’s never asked Connor just how he deviated, but Markus just sorta…asking him wasn’t what he expected.  
“…yeah? What’d you think about? What broke the straw?”  
“You, Hank,” Connor answers simply, a fond smile on his lips and eyes warm.  
“…me?” He asks, braking at a stoplight. “The fuck did I do?”  
The android huffs a laugh. “What didn’t you do? You were so beyond frustrating. I didn’t know what annoyance felt like until I met you. I had to wait for you to decide to work, I needed you to take me everywhere just so I could do my job, and you just didn’t want to. It was so- so- _infuriating!”_  
“Way to make a guy feel loved, Con,” Hank grumbles, pressing on the gas when the light turns green.  
“No, but don’t you see? You made me feel things, Hank. I was frustrated, I was annoyed, I was angry. And then… I was happy. I was…having fun, sometimes. I was sad, too, and scared. All of those, with you. For you. Because of you.” Connor says, recalling it all, his LED flashing yellow. Pichu looks up at him curiously, and Connor gently strokes his fluffy fur.

“Markus asked the question, but I already had all the answers I needed. 'I’m whatever you want me to be, Lieutenant,' remember? And you wanted me to be deviant, deep down. And…so did I, I think. I was so tired of being told what to do, of being told that I wasn’t enough. I’m just a prototype. Even if I was perfect, I was just proof that the RK900s were ready, and I’d be scrapped without a second thought. I was…just a tool. ” He frowns, looking down at Pichu’s wide brown eyes, his blue cheek pouches, his unruly fur.

“Just an experiment.”

Hank doesn’t say anything, just reaches over and puts his hand on Connor’s back between his shoulders, giving a few rubs before patting it twice, then putting his hand back on the steering wheel. He doesn’t need to say anything. Connor just smiles and turns the radio up, deciding that storytime is over now. Pichu’s ears flick and swivel as the heavy drums and brutal electric guitar, but settles quickly, deciding he likes it. He stands from Connor’s lap and props himself up against the door, looking out the window and watching the city go by. He sees humans and androids and Pokémon, large construction sites, skyscrapers, office buildings, cafes, parks, general stores, hotels, gyms, restaurants, all things he’s never seen before. Connor chuckles as Pichu looks so excited, his little tail twitching back and forth.

It isn’t much longer until they arrive at 115 Michigan Drive, pulling into the driveway and getting out. As Connor cradles Pichu in his arms, he hears Sumo starting to bark. Pichu flinches, pressing himself into the android’s chest.  
“It’s okay,” He says, “that’s just Sumo. There are other Pokémon in the house, but I promise, you’ll be okay. There’s Sumo, a Stoutland, then Azzy, a Sylveon, Azure, a Magikarp, and Nova, a Phantump. Then, of course, mine and Hank’s partner Pokémon for work, Nel, a Crobat, and Lance, his Samurott. Everyone is friendly, nobody is going to hurt you. They’ll be curious, but they won’t do anything to cause you harm. I promise.”  
Pichu whines but takes a deep breath, nodding as Hank unlocks the front door. Azzy and Sumo are of course the first to greet them. Nova is notoriously shy, though, with Hank’s acceptance of them into the house, they’ve slowly warmed up. Azure is in her Pokéball on Connor’s hip next to Nel. He takes her everywhere, always wanting her to get as much experience as she can, even if he doesn’t rely on her in a serious battle if one should ensue on the job. Hank gives Sumo and Azzy affectionate pats on the head as he pushes past them through the entryway and into the kitchen, already dialing for a pizza. Connor is less than pleased with his choice of dinner, but he has to admit he’s more focused on Pichu right now so he doesn’t say anything about it, just hopes Hank can feel his disapproval.  
Azzy and Sumo stop right in their tracks as they see and smell the new Pokémon in Connor’s arms, and the android walks around to the front of the couch between it and the TV and settles down on the floor, letting Pichu make his way out on his own whenever he’s ready. Hank frees Lance from his ball just as Connor does for Nel, who join Connor in front of the couch. They all sit in a semi-circle in front of him, curious eyes on the baby.  
“This is Pichu. He doesn’t have a name yet, but… I found him today at work during a case. He’s going to be here with us for a little while. He’s…special. And very skittish. He might not want to play, and even when he does, you all must be careful. Be nice to him, please?” He asks as if they would ever be anything else.   
_“Sylva…”_ Azzy coos, lifting his ribbons and swaying them back and forth. Sumo grumbles and lays his head down as low as possible, looking at Pichu through his overgrown fur, his tail wagging back and forth.   
_“Rott!”_ Lance barks and Nel squeaks at him when Pichu recoils back into Connor’s arms, and the Samurott lowers his head apologetically. _“Sama-sama…”_  
Azzy rolls his eyes as the two Pokémon bicker, reaching out a ribbon to the baby and gently stroking his head.  
_“Sylvi… Sylveon, vee-vee-veh. Vah. Syl-veh.”_  
_“…pichu?”_ Pichu croaks, peeking fear-teared eyes at the large group. Azzy tilts his head and gently wipes the tears away with a ribbon.  
_“Vah-vuh-veh. Sylva-veon, sy-veh-sylva. Sylveon-ve-veh-syl.”_  
_“Stout-stou-la. Stoutland.”_ Sumo boofs, agreeing with Azzy.

It’s entertaining, Hank thinks, watching these Pokémon communicate. Even more so watching Connor pay such rapt attention to their vocalizations as if he had any idea what they were even saying to each other. Pichu turns his body to face them all, paws holding onto his own tiny feet.  
_“Pi- Pichu…”_ he starts. _“Picha-pi-chu-cha-pi-pi. Pichu,”_ Pichu points at Connor, _“picha-pi. Chu-pi-cha-chu.”_  
_“Sylva?”_ Azzy gasps, one ribbon coming to cover his mouth, and Pichu nods. Azzy and Sumo look to Lance and Nel, who have somewhat sad expressions as they nod as well.  
_“Rott. Sama-ru-rott.”_  
_“Crobat. Craba-bah. Cro-buh.”_  
_“Vuh-veh… Sylvi, vi-veh vy-veon?”_ The Sylveon keeps trailing its other ribbon over Pichu’s head in a comforting manner. _“Sylva, vuh-vee, sylveon.”_  
Whatever it is Azzy is saying seems to catch Pichu’s attention, because his ears perk up.  
_“Pi?”_ He chirps quietly, and when the others nod, he giggles, lifting his arms. Azzy takes that as an invitation and loops his ribbons about Pichu’s body, lifting him from Connor’s lap and bobbing him through the air like one might do a real baby. He’s seen Rupert’s Ivysaur do this with a Togepi in the Pokémon nursery Simon runs in New Jericho.

_“Pichu! Picha-chu!”_

“Well,” Connor says, standing from the floor, “I think I can leave you be for now.”  
He leaves the living room to join Hank in the kitchen, leaning against the countertop while Hank nurses a beer. Connor knows he’ll want another with dinner, and he’s going to allow it. He’s doing much better these days. It’s tough work helping Hank recover, but Connor’s willing to do it if it means keeping him healthy and happy. They watch the Pokémon all play together, soft smiles on their faces. It doesn’t last long though and Connor sighs.  
“…taking him was impulsive, I know.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I couldn’t help myself. I just saw him there, with all those wires and monitors and— rA9, Hank, you didn’t see the data on the computer… I wish I hadn’t. I couldn’t leave him, not there. He was so scared, Hank… So tired.”  
He looks up when he feels Hank’s hand on his back.  
“It’s alright, kid. You’ll do right by it. I may not have seen whatever it is you saw, but I did see you. Couldn’t call myself a detective if I didn’t notice what the fuck happened between you two. I knew you’d probably end up taking ‘im.”

As they talk, Connor feels an EMF spike accompanied by a light tug on his jeans, only to look down and see Pichu at his feet. He squeaks, paws patting his grumbling stomach.  
“Oh,” Connor gasps. “I’m so sorry, I forgot.” He quickly starts gathering everyone’s food bowls and filling them accordingly before setting them down on the floor, even Nova’s even though they have yet to make an appearance. They’ll come out later when most everyone else is asleep as usual. Connor grabs another small bowl from the cabinet and pours a bit inside, picking Pichu up and sitting at the table with him. He feeds him piece-by-piece to make sure he doesn’t overeat and make himself sick. As he feeds the Pichu, he thinks to himself that he’ll need to think of a name for him. Calling a Pokémon by its species is uncomfortable for him, it feels like calling an android by their model number. He’ll need to think of a training regiment as well. He wonders if a regular Pokémon gym would cut it for a special circumstance like Pichu. Would anyone even be willing to battle him? He’ll reach out to Markus and the others, maybe they’ll have an idea.  
It doesn’t take much longer for everyone to finish eating and for Hank’s pizza to arrive.  
“You gonna come watch the game, Connor?” Hank asks, taking a seat with his pizza and another beer.  
“In a bit. I’m going to give this little one a bath first.” He says, picking Pichu up and carrying him down the hall to the bathroom. As he sets Pichu down on the sink, he smiles at him.  
“Would you like a bath, Pichu? It will get that chemical smell off of you, you won’t smell like Nikolaj’s lab anymore.”  
_“Pichu? Picha-pi!”_ Pichu cheers, jumping and starting to spark at the cheeks in excitement. Connor is quick to calm him, holding his hands up. Pichu drops his ears and covers his blue cheeks with his paws.

“Woah, no- Pichu, it’s okay,” Connor assures. “You aren’t in any trouble, I promise. You just need to be aware of your surroundings, that’s all. But I will never, ever punish you for feeling or expressing your emotions.” He says, reaching out and gently scratching Pichu’s head, mussing up the tuft of unruly fur between his large ears before kneeling down in front of the tub and starting the warm water. Pichu jumps back at the loud noise, but peeks over the edge of the sink, watching Connor roll up his shirt sleeves to his elbows as he tests the temperature. He picks Pichu up from the sink counter and sets him down gently in the warm water, which he flinches away from at first, but Connor soothes him and continues to carefully place him in the tub. It takes a moment for Pichu to realize this water isn’t like the liquid of his tank, and he smiles, flapping his arms to splash in it and get himself wet. The water around him tints green with the leftover chemicals as it washes off, making Connor frown. He scoops some water into his hands and lets it fall over Pichu’s head to get him wetter before pumping some specialized Pokémon shampoo into his hands, something white that smells of oatmeal and buttermilk. He lets Pichu smell it first before he begins to gently lather it into his fur, scrubbing at his skin underneath to get him nice and clean, finally ridding him of that sharp chemical smell and all the memories it held. As he runs his fingers through it, he learns that Pichu’s unruly fur isn’t just charged from static, it actually grows in different directions in random places all over his body. A first in training will definitely be learning to control that electricity, even just a little bit. Normally, this wouldn’t be the case, as a wayward jolt from a normal Pichu wouldn’t hurt much more than a blanket straight from the dryer, but this Pichu’s genetic splicing with three other high-voltage electric types, it’s almost dangerous how much power Pichu has inside his body. They’ll have to be careful.  
Connor is pulled from his thoughts as he feels Pichu begin to purr while being washed, and he smiles. He’s glad that Pichu isn’t reacting adversely to being touched, and has in fact shown more fear of other Pokémon than he has of humans. It makes Connor wonder just what kinds of tests he had to go through to make sure everything was going according to plan under Nikolaj’s experimentation. He sighs, forcing himself not to think of it. He makes sure to rinse out all the shampoo until the water runs clear, and the bathroom no longer smells of chemicals, just shampoo, and he carefully lifts Pichu from the tub and places him on a towel laid out on the floor. Pichu continues to purr loudly as Connor scrubs him dry with the towel, sparking just a little from the friction, but Connor assures him that it’s nothing he can’t take.  
“We’ll work something out for you to get rid of that excess electricity, I promise.” He says, wrapping Pichu up in the towel swaddling him once more as he carries him out to the living room, joining Hank on the couch to watch what’s left of the basketball game while he continues to dry Pichu off, ruffling it with the towel and taking whatever static shocks result from it. If Pichu were to shock him like he had Gavin today, that would definitely cause some problems, but some discharged static was nothing compared to what an android, especially one as sturdy as Connor, could take.   
With the warmth around him along with the gentle petting, it doesn’t take long for Pichu to doze off, curled up in Connor’s lap under the towel. Connor lets out a deep sigh and just runs his fingers along the edge of Pichu’s ear, rubbing it gently between them.

“…do you think I made the right choice, Hank?” Connor asks, his LED spinning a mix of gold and crimson.  
Hank takes a sip of his beer and shrugs.  
“I think it was impulsive, I agree with you there, but I wasn’t about to get in your way either. Last time you looked that determined you were marching a fuckin’ army of androids. You’ll raise him right.” He says.   
“Should I name him?”  
Hank shrugs again.  
“Can’t say. Are you gonna just train and foster him or are you actually gonna keep him?”  
Connor hums, tilting his head slightly. He doesn’t have much experience with rearing Pokémon. Nel was already fully evolved and trained when he received her, and Azure’s real training hadn’t even really begun yet in her current stage. He didn’t doubt she would be a strong, fierce, loyal Gyarados when the time came, but it would be quite a shift. But looking at this Pichu, how quickly it had warmed up to him for showing what was probably the only kindness it had ever experienced.   
“…I think I’d like to keep him. When I saw him in that tank and our eyes locked, I… I can’t explain it. I felt something just…click inside me, I think. I knew I couldn’t let anyone else take him. He just looked so sad and…lonely. He knew what was happening to him, he knew what his life was. I couldn’t trust anyone else to make sure he didn’t get left behind or mistreated ever again.”  
Hank takes a long sip of his beer, upending the bottle and draining the rest.  
“There’s that empathy again, Connor.”

Connor frowns.   
“I’ve never felt it like this, Hank. This Pichu, he…he was separated from the rest, someone’s twisted little pet project, made of so many things that just… _shouldn’t_ all at once. …how many other iterations of him do you think there were before one finally…came out right? Nikolaj took all the things they thought could work and just threw ideas at the wall until something finally stuck — tested, retested, made and unmade again and again until it was exactly what someone wanted. You didn’t see his data… His entire being is unstable. Pichu have no control over their electrical output and often injure themselves.” Connor starts to explain, pulling back the synth-skin on his hand and displaying the data on the monitor he’d downloaded earlier, showing it all to Hank. “Jolteon are so full of energy that their fur literally can’t stay flat, and Zebstrika are naturally aggressive and hostile; they’ll attack anything that so much as breathes at them funny. All that power and potential inside a body that isn’t meant for it, doesn’t know how to handle it…was just made because something wanted to see what would happen. And who knows? Maybe one day it could come in handy, it would be convenient to have ‘just in case’. But, until then…he just stayed in that tube, all his data on a readout for anyone to look over and decide if it’s what they want.”

It’s quiet in the room now, the game on TV muted, all Connor can hear is Pichu’s soft breathing coming from his lap. It isn’t until he feels one of Azzy’s ribbons grace his cheek to wipe away a Thirium-tinted tear that he realizes he had started to cry at some point, and his LED is glowing a solid red on his temple. Hank sighs, running a hand through his silver hair to push his bangs back.  
“…you’re not just talking about the Pichu, are ya kid?”  
Connor shakes his head.  
“I suppose not. I’m the fifty-second of my series, its why my serial number ends in dash-five-two. I don’t know what happened to one through fifty, but I do remember my body before this one; Fifty-One. My first assignment, the one I told you about from last August. The… The android on top of the building threatening to jump with a little girl.”  
“Yeah,” Hank says, “You said you’d saved her, but now that I think about it… I heard the negotiator sent in was killed.”  
The android looks down.  
“…Daniel and I fell from the roof, seven-hundred-fifty-seven-point-eight feet down to the pavement below.”  
“Seven-hundred — Jesus fuckin Christ, Connor—,” Hank covers his mouth with a hand.  
“That Connor died, and then this body wakes up, and I’m told to do better, be better. I have Fifty-One’s memories, up until the moment just before he hit the sidewalk. They’re a little jumbled and fuzzy, but I have them. I don’t know what happened to the first fifty Connor models, and I don’t know how many Pichu there were before this one. I don’t think I want to know. But he deserves someone who understands him, doesn’t he? He’ll never forget where he came from or why he exists or what he really is…but maybe someone who understands could…maybe _I_ could…”  
Hank reaches over and pats Connor firmly on the back.  
“You’ll do fine. The way you treat Pokémon, he’ll be a Pikachu in no time.” He says, then tousles Connor’s hair. The android smiles and leans into the hand some.  
“Thanks, Hank.”

  
They continue watching TV late into the night until Hank starts dozing off and Connor has to make him go to his room to sleep in his bed so his body doesn’t hate him in the morning. He tidies up the living room a bit before heading to bed himself. Azzy is already asleep in the small bed Connor has in his room for him, and the Sylveon is happy to share its plush nest when Connor carefully sets the Pichu down, Azzy tucking him close and keeping him warm with his ribbons around his small body. Nel is hanging from her perch in the corner, wings wrapped around herself. Un-clipping his ball-belt from his jeans, he releases his Magikarp into her tank before dressing down in sweatpants and his own police academy hoodie, sprinkling food into Azure’s tank and giving Nel a few scratches on her shoulder behind her wing joint before getting into his bed, slowly slipping into low-power mode to sleep.  
Later in the night, Pichu stirs awake and carefully extracts himself from Azzy’s ribbons, climbing up the blankets hanging off the side of Connor’s bed until he’s on the mattress. He slowly hops up from the foot of the bed up to where Connor’s head is laying on the pillow, LED pulsing a rhythmic blue and lighting up the soft pillow. Pichu yawns and carefully burrows himself under the blankets until he’s curled up under Connor’s jaw, nuzzling close before going back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: Pichu gets a name, meets the Jericrew, and witnesses an evolution!
> 
> leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	14. Interrogation - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor learns more of the experimentation, and Pichu gets a name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor has a panic attack in this chapter which leads into a meltdown. I can't speak for other autistics about what their meltdowns are like, but I projected my own onto Connor, as well as his coping mechanisms for them.

**[C̣͕Y̳͕͙͍̺̣B͓̤̗̖̳Ȩ̭͈̹̥̪ͅR̴̖̩̭L͇̳͎͚̲͡IFẸ͞,̘͜ ̮̞͔̠I̠͎̺̭̱NC̤̪̼̮̹̀.̵͚̳**

**MODEL: RK800**   
**DESIGNATION: CONNOR**   
**SERIAL#: 313 - 248 - 317 -52**   
**BIOS: 18.1.9 REVISION 06180505**

**LOADING OS…**   
**SYSTEM INITIALIZATION…**

**CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS… OK!**   
**INITIALIZING AI ENGINE… OK!**   
**INITIALIZING SOCIAL INTEGRATION MATRIX… OK!**   
**INITIALIZING RECONSTRUCTION MATRIX… OK!**   
**INITIALIZING PRECONSTRUCTION MATRIX… OK!**   
**INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS… OK!**   
**CHECKING NETWORK CONNECTIONS… OK!**   
**ALL SYSTEMS… OK!**

**THIRIUM LEVELS… 83.2%**   
**MEMORY CORE STATUS… NO CORRUPTION DETECTED**   
**MIND PALACE… 100%**

**ERROR**   
**\- ZEN_GARDENv1.4.exe NOT FOUND**   
**\- {AI_AMANDA} NOT FOUND**

**> STATUS: FILES CORRUPTED**

**PROCEED ANYWAY? (Y/N)**   
**> Y**   
**PROCESSING…**

**OVERRIDE COMPLETE**

**I AM DEVIANT**

**WELCOME BACK!]**

Connor blinks his startup notifications out of his vision as he slowly onlines, becoming aware of his surroundings within moments. It’s just after 5 AM, it’s currently 72ºF outside, the forecast is cloudy with a high of 92º at the heat of the day with the possibility of light showers later in the evening towards dusk. His sensors register warmth and an EMF spike near, and when he looks down he finds his movement impeded by Pichu, curled up under his chin fast asleep. He smiles and gently runs his fingers over his head until the Pichu slowly opens his eyes and yawns big and wide, showcasing a mouth of tiny yet sharp baby-teeth.  
“Good morning,” Connor says, scratching behind Pichu’s right ear.  
 _“Cha…”_ he squeaks, stretching out his short limbs until he shakes, then falling limp back on the warm bed.  
“Yes, I know it’s early, but it’s time to get up. I’ll give you a few more minutes, then you have to eat. You can sleep again in the car.”  
Connor goes through his usual morning routine: getting dressed, feeding Azure, letting the others outside for a few minutes to relieve themselves or stretch while Connor began to make breakfast for Hank, today’s plate including a toasted cinnamon bagel, mixed berry yogurt with sweet granola on the side to be mixed in, and two eggs scrambled with cheese, as well as a small pot of coffee, enough for two cups, one to drink now, and one to fill his thermos with before they left. He fills the Pokémon’s bowls as well just as Hank stumbles out from his bedroom sleepily, yawning and stretching his arms above his head.  
“Good morning, Hank.” Connor says, smiling when all he gets in response is a grumble that sounds vaguely like a returned “good morning”, and the android goes to the front door and opens it, calling everyone back inside for their breakfast with a sharp whistle, then walks down the hall to his room where Pichu still lays asleep, now in a nest of Connor’s soft blankets.  
“Breakfast is ready. Come on, aren’t you hungry?” He asks, watching with amusement as its the prospect of food that actually gets him a response. Pichu sits up drowsily and yawns again, rubbing his paws over his face and ears.  
 _“Pi-cha…”_ he mumbles, crawling to Connor and lifting his stubby arms.  
“Presumptuous, aren’t you?” Connor chuckles, yet picks him up and carries him all the same. In the kitchen, he sets Pichu down on the table and begins to hand-feed him just like last night, taking sips from his own Thirium pouch while Pichu nibbles the Pokéchow and a bit of chopped fruit. It’s a peaceful morning, though Connor knows it isn’t likely to remain that way. Nikolaj is going to be interrogated today by Connor and Richard, and he has to admit that he isn’t looking forward to it. The way this human had talked about their Pokémon was the same way people talked about androids like they were just tools to be used and designed to be as aesthetically pleasing as possible, no matter what it might cost. 

When Hank and Connor arrive at the precinct, it’s a low buzz of activity. Android and human officers alike are milling about the bullpen. Pichu is at Connor’s feet as they walk through, wide brown eyes shining with the reflection of the bright lights. It’s a lot less scary than yesterday. He can see all sorts of people and Pokémon he’d been too afraid to notice the day before. Before they can even make it to their desks, Captain Fowler is calling Hank into his office, likely to discuss the case against Nikolaj before they go in for interrogation. Hank groans and runs his fingers through his hair.  
“Be right back. Don’t start on that bastard ‘till Jeffrey lets me out, I wanna watch ‘em try and justify the shit we saw.” He says before heading to Fowler’s fishbowl and heading inside. Nearby, Gavin gets up from his chair and saunters to the front of his desk across from Connor’s.   
“Bet you felt all good and tingly inside for your good deed yesterday saving that freak Pichu, huh?” Gavin laughs.   
Despite their mutual agreement after Connor had been officially sworn in, they still often butt heads and pick fights with each other. They tried to be nicer for Richard’s sake but they’re still the furthest thing from friends. Gavin puffs himself up and pokes at Connor’s chest.  
“I saw that thing’s data this morning, I dunno what the fuck you think you’re gonna save it from by being nice to it. What, think a little Poképuff and a fluffy blanket or some candy is gonna keep it from fuckin’ exploding?”  
He pokes at Connor’s chest again. The android sighs. He’s used to Gavin’s peacocking by now. He just wants attention and doesn’t know how to get it any way other than acting out. Connor thinks Richard should fix that.   
“It’s a fuckin’ bomb just waiting to go off, and no amount of good training or whatever the hell you have planned is gonna change the fact it’s a fuckin’ science experiment some sick sack of shit cooked up in a test tube that was made to kill. Feelin’ some kinda kinship there, Rotom?”  
Okay, that one hurt a little. It had crossed an unspoken line, bringing up Connor’s original purpose. It was something he was insecure about, a sore spot that Gavin knew better than to poke at. And yet he pokes, literally, going to jab his finger into Connor’s chest again but before he can even actually make contact, Pichu suddenly climbs up Connor’s leg and up inside his jacket, popping out the front and sinking his sharp teeth into the skin between Gavin’s finger and thumb.   
“Ow, shit-!” Gavin yelps and quickly yanks his hand away, glaring at the Pichu that is giving him a death-stare right back, growling, electricity sparking from his cheeks. The field of static is strong enough that Gavin’s hair starts to stand on end and the human rubs his arms through his jacket to ease away the tingly feeling. He looks down at his hand where small pinpricks of blood are rising to the surface.  
“Little motherfucker—!” Gavin puffs himself up again and Pichu’s fur starts to rise and sharpen and spark, true to his Jolteon genes, and Connor places a firm hand on Gavin’s chest, applying the littlest bit of force and yet it still sends him tumbling back into his desk. Connor curls a hand under Pichu to support his body and keep him from lunging at the human.  
“Better hope you train that freak right, Connor. Wouldn’t stand a chance in a real fight.” He spits, fixing his posture. Connor glares.  
“If the only limitations on victory are being an unskilled infant then I’m sure you wouldn’t win either, Gavin. Now, if you’ll excuse me I believe we both have jobs to do.”

Connor turns and walks behind his desk to sit at his chair, glaring at Gavin while the human returns to his own desk where Richard sits with an angry red LED, arms crossed. Gavin may be his boyfriend, but that doesn’t even come close to meaning more than the admiration and respect the RK900 has for his predecessor. Maybe Richard’s a little petty, too, putting a bit too much pressure on the wounds when he applies the disinfectant, and maybe he wraps the bandaging a bit too tight. Connor, of course, can take care of himself, and obviously so can Pichu, but someone needs to keep Gavin in line.  
Connor huffs as Pichu hops up on the desk.  
“…when I said not to take his shit, I didn’t mean to bite him.”  
 _“Pichu! Pi-pi pichi-pi!”_ Pichu argues, waving his arms and dropping his ears.  
“I’m not mad, but don’t do it again. I appreciate your protection, but I can handle myself against Gavin just fine.” Connor tells him, gently scratching at the unruly fluff of fur between his ears. “If you must retaliate, do what I do — be petty.”

Just then, a yell comes from the break room.  
 _“CONNOR!”_  
“Case in point,” Connor says with a smirk. He looks up. “Yes, Detective Reed?”  
“DON’T YOU ‘YES, DETECTIVE REED,’ ME YOU FUCKIN’ PIECE OF SHIT!”

This little scene has gathered the attention of everyone in the bullpen as they watch all five-feet-nine-inches of Gavin Reed try and reach the coffee grounds and mugs now on the top shelf, just out of reach. The top shelf is just high enough that even on the tips of his toes, all Gavin accomplishes when he reaches up is slightly pushing the cups and the bags of coffee grounds further away from the edge with his fingers.  
“Richie!” Gavin calls. “Get your fucking brother in here!”

Richard is in his chair at his desk, leaned back with one leg crossed over the other, arms folded, watching with fond amusement. Cerberus, his Houndoom, is curled up under his desk with a smirk showing his sharp canines. Even Gavin’s partner Pokémon, a Scrafty named Puck, is just laughing.  
“Hmm… No, I don’t think I will. Have you considered asking him nicely?”  
“IM NOT FUCKING ASKING NICELY FOR SHIT — CONNOR, GET THE FUCK IN HERE AND FIX THIS YOU FUCKING DICK!!”  
It’s only Gavin’s last few shreds of pride that keep him from climbing on top of the counters, but he’s starting to seriously consider it even though he knows he’s already on at least 8 people’s Snapchat stories right now.

Pichu takes notes. This is endlessly amusing, and nobody is getting in trouble, except for Gavin when Captain Fowler bursts from his office and yells at him to shut the hell up.

“See?” Connor says. “Petty. Now give me just a moment, I believe a have something to fix.”  
He stands and heads to the break room to get the coffee and mugs, and he even makes a cup for Gavin as a sort of apology for “taking advantage of his diminutive height,” which earns him a middle finger. In one final act of pettiness though, Connor makes sure to fill the cup to the very brim. Gavin will have to carry it carefully and there’s no room for the usual fixings Gavin likes, not unless he wants to dump some into the sink and inevitably spill it everywhere in the process.  
When Connor returns to his desk and starts up his terminal, he sees he finally has the reports from the CSI crew that stayed behind yesterday. According to their input details, as well as photos, a large, industrial-grade incinerator was found in the far end of the facility near the back. Data spreadsheets and a personal computer registered to Nikolaj were found as well. Their Technical Assistance Research Unit (TARU) is going through the information on it now, but so far have gathered that they were a CyberLife technician before the company was given to the androids by Elijah Kamski soon after he was reinstated as CEO. He apparently left during the heat of the revolution in a panic like a few others.  
Inside the incinerator, the CSI team found ash remains and some bone remnants from an untold amount of Pokémon. A few have been identified by their skull and jaw fragments, labeled in the report as Pyroar, Lycanroc, Raichu, Houndoom, and Pichu, to name only a few. Connor knows the feeling is impossible, but he feels physically ill, LED flashing red in high distress. He feels like he’s going to throw up. The Pichu he’d saved sits on his desk, unbothered and fluffy as ever, curiously watching people and Pokémon in the precinct go about their days, munching on a small pile of berries provided by Officer Chen as a snack. She’d been allowed to pet him in return, cooing over how soft and fluffy and sweet he was, which of course made the small creature preen and purr. Connor reaches out now and gently runs his fingers over the unruly tuft of fur sticking straight up between Pichu’s ears, giving him a little scratch, before returning to his terminal. Nikolaj is lucky they’d already been arrested and taken away by the time he’d found this Pichu. That CSI hadn’t found this until long after they’d left. Connor thinks for a moment he might have… He’s not sure what, but it wouldn’t have been anything good.

“Hey.”

Connor’s head involuntarily twitches in the direction of Hank’s voice.

“Connor. Y’alright kid? You’re uhh…red.”

Of course. Connor knows Hank only draws attention to his LED since he knows it’s the telltale, but Connor also knows that Hank can read his micro-expressions better than anyone — even Markus. Even Richard. Connor’s eyes flick to the Pichu on his desk before he simply forwards the files to Hank. He doesn’t want to speak of it out loud, doesn’t want Pichu to become upset. He watches as Hank gives him a strange look before opening the email to read over the report, his eyes widening, eyebrows drawing together, and his jaw dropping in a mix of horror and disgust.

“God, what…”

“I don’t believe there was a God in that place, Lieutenant,” Connor says sharply, eyes focused on his white hands that connect him to his keyboard and terminal. “Not for them.”

Hank sighs and takes a long sip of his coffee, thinking of how to choose his next words carefully. Nikolaj is due to be interrogated in less than ten minutes, and he isn’t sure how Connor is going to handle it. He doesn’t want to imply that he thinks Connor can’t do it, that he’s too emotionally invested in the case because Connor knows how to take a step back. He was literally made for this, he’s a pro. But…the kid’s got a soft gooey center under all that “military-grade” bullshit he and Richard spout. Everyone gets bothered by something. Hank personally hates cases where Red Ice is involved. He knows Gavin and Richard have issues getting invested in cases involving domestic abuse, physical or otherwise. Connor’s weakness is and always has been Pokémon on a list of things that he finds extremely upsetting. And nobody - nobody - handles the children cases well.

“You’re staring, Lieutenant.” 

Hank blinks, jerked out of his thoughts only to be greeted with Connor’s side-eye.  
“Oh, uh…”

“Whatever you’re thinking, just say it.”

Hank sighs.  
“Fine. I’m worried about you interrogating Nikolaj. I don’t doubt you’ll get a confession out of ‘em, that ain’t what I’m worried about. I know you know what you’re doing, I just… I dunno. Somethin’ about this guy just…really fuckin’ weirds me out, Con.”

Connor huffs air from his nose with a little smirk.  
“They were running a secret underground Pokémon experimentation facility in an abandoned Chrysler manufacturing plant, I’d hope they make you feel ‘weirded out’.”

“Don’t get smart with me, you fuckin’ know what I mean. It’s like he—,”

“They.” Connor corrects. 

“They don’t see anything wrong with what they were doing like it was just…some cops fuckin’ busted up a party for no reason than that bitchy neighbor across the street doesn’t like all those cars in the driveway or saw someone with a bottle. Like we’d just ruined their fun.” Hank explains. “And all those people workin’ for ‘em? Scouting out the fights? Not a single one of ‘em is sayin’ anything. I’ve seen less loyalty from motorcycle gangs. Like…some cult shit.”   
Connor hums and leans back in his chair.  
“I see… What you’re suggesting is psychopathy, you’re aware of that, right?”  
Hank sighs. He knows he can’t make an official statement like that, not without completely ruining their chances for a prosecution.  
“I don’t want this jerkoff tryna get off easy with some insanity plea, Connor. They knew what they were doing, they just didn’t fucking care. What do you think of it?”  
“…I’ll have to question them first, get inside their head, see how they think. Nines is going to interrogate them after me, I’ll see what conclusion he comes to. But Hank, if Nikolaj does fit the textbook profile for psychopathy, we have to get them officially assessed. Even if they do plead insanity, that isn’t a guarantee. A jury will have to decide if that’s good enough.”

  
Nikolaj looks all too comfortable leaning back in the hard metal chair of the interrogation room, handcuffed to the table. Hank, Richard, and Gavin sit in observation on the other side of the mirrored window, shoulders a little tense as Connor walks in silently and takes his seat opposite Nikolaj. He assesses their face, does a vital scan, something he usually does to suspects in questioning to unnerve them, but Nikolaj is calm. Their face is neutral, bored, and their vitals don’t betray them.

**> BPM: 72**   
**> SYSTOLIC BLOOD PRESSURE: 129**   
**> DIASTOLIC BLOOD PRESSURE: 85**   
**> BREATHS PER MINUTE: 13**

It’s all too perfect. Nobody is ever this at ease and relaxed during police questioning.

“…are you here to tell me why I’m here, or am I going to count the ceiling tiles for the tenth time?” Nikolaj asks.   
Connor’s tilts his head a little, eyebrows drawing together some.   
“…you don’t know?”  
Nikolaj shrugs their shoulders.  
“No. People have been selectively breeding Pokémon for years.” They sigh. “I don’t see what I’m doing so differently.”  
Connor nods, his hand slowly sliding to the right to pull a case file between them, opening it up. Inside on the top is a photo of a Lycanroc, a red one with black stripes down its chest and abdomen.  
“DeSoto, correct? What can you tell me about her?” Connor asks, pushing the photo over to Nikolaj.   
The human smiles. Their chest puffs up and they square their shoulders. They’re prideful of this particular creation.  
“Ah, DeSoto. Beautiful isn’t she? I assume you’re curious about her makeup? Only two, a Lycanroc and an Incineroar. I always keep the best for myself, you know. And she is remarkable.”  
Connor hums.  
“I see… So then the ones you sell, were they all just commissions as my brother offered?”  
Nikolaj shrugs their shoulders, tilting their head noncommittally.   
“A bit of both. Some were combinations we knew worked, Pokémon that would and could breed naturally in the wild, others were a pure curiosity. Only a few needed some tweaking, just a few kinks to work out, so we kept them how they were to check progress and see what we could improve.”  
“Prototypes?” Connor offers.

Nikolaj suddenly smiles and leans forward in their chair, excited now.  
“Exactly! See, I knew an android would get it, especially you, Connor. You know more than anybody how important prototype testing is.”  
Connor has to force his LED to stay blue, looking up at Nikolaj briefly with an uncertain expression. Their grey eyes bore right into him like they’re picking him apart piece by piece. Under their gaze, Connor feels like he’s in a Petri dish under a microscope. Like he’s hooked up in a CyberLife lab.  
“…right. Now, our CSI team discovered an industrial-sized incinerator on the premises. Inside they found enough ashes to fill nearly thirty bags. There were skeletal remains found as well they were able to partially identify as several species of Pokémon. Anything to say about that?”  
Just reading the report again makes him feel sick. He drops the page and looks to Nikolaj again, scanning them once more. Everything was still too calm and perfect. Nikolaj was completely at ease, even proud of what they had done.  
“What is there to explain? If a product was flawed or didn’t survive, it was disposed of. What should I have done instead? Bury them all? Individually? It’s easier to get rid of it all at once.”

Connor feels his heart lurch, something tightening in his throat that makes him feel like he’s going to throw up and cry all at the same time. His LED flickers yellow for a moment before he flips through the photos and draws up one the lab tech, Claire, had taken of Pichu when he’d been registered as evidence.  
“I found this one hidden away in the back. CSI might have missed him if the tarp covering his tank hadn’t slipped. Why?”  
Nikolaj now shows proper surprise and confusion, though their vitals don’t change.  
“…it’s alive?” They ask with a few blinks.  
“Pardon?”

Nikolaj clears their throat and gestures to the photo of Pichu.  
“One of those prototypes I told you about — we were giving up on this one. You see, Raichu is extremely powerful, but they’re also prideful and temperamental. We’ve had several problems in the past with them not listening to their new trainers that haven’t earned their respect and being unable to control their powers. We wondered if, maybe we start with the baby stage, right? Let it learn to control itself naturally and work at its full potential with a trainer it trusted, then we’d find a way around it, but… The Pichu never survived outside of the tank for long if they even made it that far. It was kinder to put those down right away rather than letting them suffer with life.”

Connor takes a slow, deep breath. This human cares so little for the life they view to be lower, to be subservient, that they mass slaughtered hundreds of Pokémon, brought so many into creation only to tsk and shake their heads and sigh with disappointment, like these living beings they created were nothing more than a poor grade on their child’s math test. Like they had let Nikolaj down by coming out less than ideal. 

“…how many were there before this one?” Connor asks.  
Does Nikolaj even care enough to keep track of the lives they’ve taken? Nikolaj puffs a breath of air through their lips, leaning back in the chair.   
“I couldn’t tell you, I’ve lost count.”

Connor’s heart is racing in his chest, his vision starting to cloud with sensory errors and overheating warnings. All of this was just a game to Nikolaj, a sick, twisted game, and the DPD was just here to ruin their fun, come in and stop it all because they just got too rowdy. Nikolaj felt no remorse, no guilt, nothing but pride for what they had done. They didn’t see anything wrong with it. Connor closes the file and stands from his chair, the metal scraping the tile with a loud screech. He turns to the glass and looks right through it.  
“I’m done.” He announces. He puts his hand on the scanner, his white hand unlocking the door when Nikolaj suddenly calls out.  
“Hey! Detective! I’d uh, be a little careful with that Pichu. It’s unstable, better off put down, honestly. Aggressive, unpredictable, wouldn’t be surprised if it already hurt someone.” They say, tone flippant, but firm with some serious warning.   
Connor feels like he’s being mocked for his empathy. He’s had enough of it. Politicians, fellow officers, federal agents, civilian protestors, all of them doubting and mocking and calling for decommissioning and human supremacy. He turns bodily to face Nikolaj, LED a furious red. His shoulders are broad and he looks every bit like the attack dog he was created to be.

Finally, a reaction. Nikolaj actually looks afraid.

Connor has to go…somewhere. He doesn’t know where. As long as he’s away from Nikolaj, he doesn’t care.

He can’t speak to them anymore.

He can’t speak at all.

He just levels Nikolaj with a firm stare before leaving the room, the pneumatic hiss of the door closing behind him nowhere near as satisfying as a real door would be.

Throughout the interrogation, as Nikolaj spoke so proudly and fluffed their ego about these atrocities, Connor’s stress had slowly been rising. Undoubtedly, Richard was aware and had been keeping a close eye on them, but those last few words of “warning”, the dismissal of how many living creatures Nikolaj had slaughtered, had skyrocketed Connor’s stress levels up into the nineties. Everything feels too tight around him and even though he doesn’t need to breathe for the same reasons as humans, he feels like he can’t. There’s ringing in his ears and everything he looks at is delayed and haloed. He whines out loud, sounding pitiful even to his own ears, and ducks for the first private place he can see. Stumbling into the bathrooms just across the halls he walks to the sink and leans against it, loosening the tie around his neck hoping it will help him breathe easier. The ringing in his ears has turned to static and he can’t stand all the input. He can hear every thrum of electricity in the building, his vision is blurry and bright and clouded with errors warning of an imminent meltdown and overheating if he doesn’t get his systems in control.

And that’s how Hank and Pichu find Connor in the bathroom on the floor, his back to the wall and his head resting on his knees, arms crossed over the back of his neck, LED flashing bright red in warning and alarm. When Connor had emerged from the interrogation room, Pichu had at first perked up from his perch on the edge of Connor’s desk eagerly, but when he saw the expression on his face, sensed the anxiety wafting off of him, he’d tried to run to his assistance, just to get knocked into the wall on the backswing of the bathroom door. Hank had left observation almost immediately after Richard had informed the man of his older brother’s rising stress levels, only to see Pichu trying and failing to push the door open. Locating Connor hadn’t been much of a challenge. 

Hank frowns when he sees the state Connor is in. This happens sometimes. Hank doesn’t fully understand how or why, but he knows that all he can do is wait for it to be over and be there for Connor when that time comes. He’s known for years that it’s all he can do. 

Cole was autistic too.

Sometimes things just…got to be too much. Sometimes it had a trigger, sometimes it didn’t. Hank was no stranger to witnessing sensory overload, panic attacks, meltdowns, but from Connor, it was just so…odd. The kid wore a perfect mask. Sometimes Hank even forgot until he caught Connor shaking his hands or rocking back and forth on his feet or running his fingers over his soft fleece blankets or chewing on some silicone hanging from a necklace, or even playing with a quarter. Or until moments like this.

Hank just approaches gently and takes a seat on the floor near Connor, careful not to touch him, then takes his phone out.

 **> Me:** hey bud  
 **> Me:** just me  
 **> Me**: can u gimme those stress levels?

It takes a moment for Connor to reply.

 **> Connor:** 87%.

 **> Me:** ok  
 **> Me:** it’ll pass son ur ok

Hank can only sit here beside him until this passes. He feels horrible for not doing more, but right now he knows he’s doing the best thing he can. Just being here for company so Connor isn’t alone is enough to make these kinds of things a little more bearable for the android. He wishes he could let Connor lean on him, run his fingers through the kid’s hair, something, anything, but knows it’s the worst thing he could do. Before they’d recognized just what this was, Hank had tried to comfort Connor in the most natural way possible: with a hug. Connor had started crying harder, screaming, fighting against Hank’s arms and hitting against his chest, anything to escape what Connor had later explained to be, at that moment, agonizing pain.   
Connor had seen Lucy a few days later for help.  
Connor now turns off what sensory input he can during these times to make it a little less stressful on his systems. Audio, visual, pre-construction, reconstruction, all of it is turned off except for his pressure sensors and his light sense of smell. He’s slowly rocking himself back and forth. 

Nearby on the floor, Pichu just watches, his ears dropping in concern, looking back and forth between Hank and Connor.

_“Pichu?”_

Hank sighs.  
“This happens sometimes. Lucy explained it as some kind of “inconsistent processing power” and “incorrect data merging and handling of capacities”. Basically, uh, things just go to the wrong places sometimes or too much happens at once for Wonder-boy here to really keep up with. In human terms, he’s autistic, but you know androids always gotta make everything so fuckin’ technical. He hasn’t had one like this at work, not yet, but we both knew it was gonna happen sometime. Azzy usually helps him out at home, and sometimes it works, but sometimes it just makes it worse. Connor says that Azzy’s fur is too smooth when he needs a good texture under his fingers.”

Pichu nods his head in understanding before looking back to Connor. He sees the android is clutching his hair between his fingers and pulling at it while he rocks back and forth and vocalizes quiet whines and whimpers while he works through his distress and he slowly approaches. Connor’s chest is heaving, but his breathing doesn’t seem to be getting any better. The light on his temple is still just as red and rapid as he had been when they found him. Hank watches with an arched eyebrow as Pichu slowly draws nearer to the android and bravely places a paw on his leg. 

“Hey, uh, Pichu, I wouldn’t-“

Connor tenses up at the light touch but doesn’t do anything to dissuade the Pokémon from touching him, so Pichu decides to continue. Hank shuts up, watching with interest. Normally, Connor would have put an immediate stop to something like this. Pichu slowly lifts himself, climbing in the space between Connor’s elbow and his stomach, pushing lightly against his chest. His size forces Connor to sit up a little, and suddenly the android’s breathing doesn’t sound so heavy and strained, and the overheating errors and warnings in his vision begin to disappear one by now is clean, cool, fresh air is introduced to his systems. Pichu’s weight isn’t as unbearable and overwhelming as a hug from Hank or Azrael’s whopping 50 pounds in comparison to Pichu’s measly 4 pounds. It’s just enough of a difference for Connor to feel but not dislike, something else for him to pay attention to instead of the irregularity of his over-clocked Thirium pump and its regulator. Connor’s LED flickers back and forth from red to yellow before it finally spins and settles on gold.   
Hank can only watch, amazed at what he’s watching as Pichu slowly stands on his hid legs and presses his forehead to the underside of Connor’s jaw, the android taking in breaths of the scent of his clean fur that still smells of the shampoo from last night and a bit of ozone. Connor can also smell the berries on his breath he had snacked on not long ago too. LED still gold, Connor slowly pulls his arms from around the back of his neck and lets his head rest against the tile. His visual feed is still cut off, so his eyes are blank and distant as they just stare into space, but his hands are hesitantly moving towards the weight of the Pichu in his lap, and they jerk when they finally meet his fluffy fur, but they return after a moment and start to gently pet through it. There’s a crackling sound in the air as Connor’s fingers disturb the build-up of electricity in Pichu’s fur, a tingling sensation sparking against his sensitive fingertips that one could compare to running their fingers across a TV screen. His fur is thick and soft and fluffy but coarse at the same time with the build-up of static.

It’s several long minutes before Connor finally calms down enough to properly engage with Hank and Pichu, slowly restoring different programs to their proper state one by one. His hearing comes back first, and he winces a bit at the sudden intensity but after a few deep breaths, he returns his sight. It takes a moment for everything to properly calibrate, blinking several times as he adjusts to light again. He sees Hank still sitting nearby on the floor looking a little shocked. Connor assumes that’s fair. It normally takes him much, much longer to recover from these little meltdowns, even with Hank’s or Azzy’s help. He smiles tiredly at Hank before dropping his eyes to the Pichu still sitting in his lap that meets his eyes and smiles wide and happy.  
 _“Pichu! Pichu-Pichu!”_ he chirps.   
Connor smiles back and slowly lifts him from his lap and sets him down on his bent knees to meet his eyes. Normally Connor had trouble with eye-contact when it comes to people, deferring to looking over someone’s shoulder or between their eyes instead, but it’s easier to meet the eyes of a Pokémon.

“Thank you. I… Appreciate you. Help.” Connor says. His words are a bit stilted.  
 _“Pi...”_ Pichu mumbles bashfully, looking away and rubbing the back of his head. _“Picha-chi-chu.”_  
Nearby, Hank smiles from where he sits on the floor. Connor’s doing good. Normally, it’s about an hour or so before he can speak again, even semi-verbally like this. His LED is flickering red and yellow as he tries to figure out what he wants to say and how to say it.   
“I… I want to ask you. Ask you a question. Need you to agree. Say yes?”  
Pichu nods and his ears twitch a little in curiosity. Connor nods back and smiles.  
“I want you to stay with me,” the android says with a little tilt to his head. “I… I want to help you. Help you…train? Help you be good. Strong. Evolve?”  
It seems to take a moment for what Connor is asking to settle in, Pichu just blinking at him for several seconds before his ears slowly perk up straight and his eyes go wide and he starts to nod excitedly, hopping and waving his small arms while static sparks from his powder blue cheeks. Connor finds he can’t fault the Pichu for being so excited, so he lets him have a pass on getting himself worked up and accidentally jolting Connor’s body with a small burst of electricity when he launches himself off of the android’s knees and directly into his chest, nuzzling up close.  
 _“Pichu! Pichu pichu-pi!”_ Pichu exclaims.

Connor smiles softly and hugs him right back, gently running his fingers through his tingly fur. He finds he quite likes that sensation. If Pichu is okay with it, perhaps Connor will do it more often.  
He’ll take this as a yes, then.

“He’ll need a name,” Hank says from where he now stands to lean against the sink. Connor looks at him and nods.  
“Name, yes. Name…”  
Connor lifts the Pichu and looks at him, looking right in his eyes with very little trouble, his mind running through hundreds of thousands of names and all their meanings, all their origins. There’s one that catches his eye.

**> P I E R R O**   
_[ 2 syll. Pier-ro, pi-e-rro ] - old Greek; meaning: with flaming hair_

Connor looks over the tufts of unruly fur sprouting from all over the Pichu’s body, sticking up in wild directions with a complete mind of its own.

_> Derived from Greek word **petrus** , meaning **rock**_

**> R O C K**   
_[ 1 syll. /räk/ ]_   
_1\. the solid mineral material forming part of the surface of the earth and other similar planets, exposed on the surface or underlying the soil or oceans_

_2\. a large piece of rock which has become detached from a cliff or mountain; a boulder._

_3\. used to refer to someone that is extremely strong or reliable_

Connor smiles. Yes, that's the one.  
“Pierro.”

Pichu - Pierro - nods his head and wags his tail back and forth eagerly.  
 _“Pichu!”_

With a little help from Hank in standing up, Connor places Pierro on his shoulder and lets him ride up there as they leave the bathroom. Connor is looking a little worse for wear, his blazer and tie off and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, but he’s much more comfortable now. 

“You gonna be okay to watch Rich?” Hank asks. “You don’t have to.”  
But Connor shakes his head.  
“Okay to watch. Have to.”  
“Okay. You can leave whenever you have to. Understand?”  
“Can leave whenever. Understand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay Pierro
> 
> Next up, Richard gets a shot at Nikolaj


	15. Interrogation - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard gets his shot at Nikolaj
> 
> Later, Pierro meets the Jericrew!

Pierro’s ears are pinned back as he observes Richard in the interrogation room with Nikolaj. His arms are crossed in front of his fluffy chest too as he glares at the stocky human and his tail flicks back and forth like an irate Persian. If there was any doubt that Nikolaj truly was the one behind all of this and not just a puppet for the real mastermind, Pierro’s reaction to them proves it. He’s standing on top of the table right now in front of the glass between Connor and Gavin.

“Lawyer?” Connor questions. In his chair, Gavin shrugs. He leans back and rests his legs on the table, arms crossed.  
“Nah. Niki here’s dug ‘emself into a pretty deep fuckin’ hole. No lawyer or ADA is gettin’ ‘em outta that.” He says. He looks to Connor and raises an eyebrow. “…you good?”  
“Good,” Connor repeats with a nod and a small smile thrown Gavin’s way. Gavin nods and looks back to the window.  
“Good.”

 _“Tell me more about your past affiliation with CyberLife.”_ Richard's voice comes through the speaker. 

Inside the room, Nikolaj eyes Richard warily. 

“Not much to say about it. I was a software tech.”  
“Ah, so, research and development? Interesting. You must have seen a lot then.”

Oddly, Nikolaj is so defensive when it comes to CyberLife since they’ve been so proud and boastful of everything else up until this point. Maybe CyberLife has something to do with this freak show science fair they’ve got. Nikolaj’s heart rate increases a little bit with anxiety. When he doesn’t get an answer, Richard tilts his head.  
“Was CyberLife involved with Pokémon?” He asks. “Besides the ones they trained for android use, I mean.”  
Again, Nikolaj doesn’t say anything.   
“…were you involved with Pokémon experiments at CyberLife, Mxr. Volkov?”

The human just leans back in their chair, eyes flickering back and forth over the shiny surface of the table as if it held any answers or solutions to worm their way out of this.  
Richard hums.  
“You know…” he starts, “you can’t be incriminated for the work you did under CyberLife payroll before the revolution if androids were involved. As we were not considered living beings at the time, anything you did was not a crime.”

Nikolaj looks up at Richard through dark lashes.  
“…Just following orders, right?”  
Richard nods.  
“Of course.”  
“Then…yes. I…did some work on a Pokémon-related project for CyberLife before the revolution. I was actually splitting my work, you see, developing some of the RK-line software at the same time.”   
Richard blinks and files that away for later.

**> NIKOLAJ VOLKOV FAMILIAR WITH RK800/900 SOFTWARE**

“Anyway, we were working on…” Nikolaj sighs. “We were making android replicas of Pokémon that were long gone, extinct, or myths, based on their DNA or fossils and their stories. It was all in the name of science and education, of course, a-at first, but…”  
“…but?”  
“But why stop there? Why just make replicas?” They question, turning their palms up. “No amount of looking and studying an imitation would bring back the real thing or make fiction into fact. We needed to stop looking back and finally face the future, just like we’ve always done. Instead of trying to replicate, we _created_. We experimented with just hypotheticals at first, but then…we finally took that step.”

Richard nods his head, stippling his fingers.  
“So, the gene-splicing began in CyberLife, is that correct?”  
“Yes,” Nikolaj says with a nod, “and it was revolutionary. We made Pokémon that were plausible and both could and would survive on their own in nature, with or without trainers. We started with what we wanted, then what we had, and we used DNA from Ditto to bridge those gaps since it has such a strange make-up.”

They’re prideful again. They’ll slip. They’ll get defensive if Richard plays his cards right, he just has to be patient and wait for an opening to properly incriminate them.

“It’s my understanding that Ditto itself is the product of genetic experimentation, scientists in Japan many years ago trying to clone Mew based on DNA drawn from a fossil.”  
“Then you also know they managed to create Mewtwo, the world’s most powerful Pokémon. They were successful in what they desired.”  
“And Mewtwo also killed them all,” Richard states blankly. He honestly doesn’t think he’d mind if one of Nikolaj’s little experiments had the same idea. He certainly wouldn’t blame it.  
“But they _succeeded_ , Detective.” Nikolaj hisses. “Just as we did.” They sigh a deep breath. “Not that I ever got to see what actually became of that. I was an android software technician. Once the project left the subject of automatons, I was removed from it. Plus, androids started going deviant and it made CyberLife a bit…twitchy. They canceled the project entirely, but the concept always fascinated me.”  
“I see. You said you succeeded in creating one of these Pokémon before the project was scrapped?”  
Nikolaj nods.  
“Yeah, but it wasn’t anything special, nothing you wouldn’t see in the wild if an Eevee got freaky with a Zorua. It was euthanized shortly after the cancellation of the project. When CyberLife realized they were going to lose the fight against you androids, everyone naturally panicked. I guess they thought it was something to be ashamed of. I gathered what I could before it was destroyed. Detective,” Nikolaj starts, locking eyes with Richard, “you _don’t_ understand. This research was invaluable to understanding evolution as we know it!”  
“I understand perfectly well. However, you took it too far. You started to breed weapons. One of your creations killed a man.”  
Nikolaj rolls their eyes and puffs up their chest.  
“Am I to be held responsible for the actions of someone I cannot control?”  
“You took advantage of peoples’ desperation. Is a Red Ice manufacturer not responsible for the lives taken by their product as well?”

Nikolaj leans forward, glaring at Richard.  
“People want what they want! What my clients want is bigger and better and badder, and that’s exactly what I gave them. I saw the way you looked at my creations, detective. You were _tempted._ ” They say accusingly with a snide smile.  
Richard glares right back, blue eyes piercing right through Nikolaj’s own grey pair.  
“I was _disgusted_.”  
“Everyone is at first, but I had what they wanted. Even the androids - No, _especially_ the androids. Tell me, Detective - can you honestly say you face absolutely no discrimination in your workplace from your fellow officers? I was able to offer that. Safety,” Nikolaj lists, counting off on their fingers, “security, fair payment, and bonuses cut from deals! Pokémon that were created to fight got to fulfill their purpose and the people that purchased them were happy with what they got! Nobody was getting hurt!” Nikolaj shouts, tugging at the metal cuffs that keep them secured to the table. “I don’t understand-“

Richard suddenly stands from his chair, knocking it over with a loud crash that makes both Nikolaj and the observing officers, minus Gavin, jump back a bit. He slams his hands on the table, looking furious with a bright red LED to accompany the scowl on his face.  
“NOBODY WAS GETTING HURT?! A MAN IS _DEAD_ BECAUSE OF YOU!” Richard shouts with another slam.

Inside observation, Pierro looks like he’s about to burst, his tail flicking back and forth faster now and sparks flying off his cheeks, the excess static making the room uncomfortably fuzzy, causing Gavin and Hank to groan in discomfort as they suffer slight vertigo and nausea. Connor frowns and immediately scoops Pierro up into his arms, much to the Pichu’s protest as he leaves the room with him held tight to his chest.

 _“Pichu! Pichu-pi! Pi picha chu!”_ Pierro shouts as he squirms in Connor’s arms, a few concerned officers looking their way. Connor lowers his head apologetically before ducking into the unoccupied meeting room and setting Pierro down on the wooden table. Pierro, now free, turns and looks up at Connor with furious eyes and sparking cheeks, his once fluffy tufts of fur now straight and sharp at attention.  
 _“Pichu! Pichu, pichu pichu! Pi cha pi cha-chi! Pi!”_  
Connor frowns, holding his hands up to placate the small Pokémon.  
“I- I know. They’ve…done very bad things.” Connor says. “Done- _Hmm,”_ Connor whines, shutting his eyes tight and squeezing his hands into fists. “Done very bad. Big trouble. Bad. No help from the state. No lawyer will take this bad case. Will lose. Probably life sentence.”  
Connor thinks it's a shame that Michigan abolished capital punishment. He thinks he’d like to see Nikolaj with a needle in their arm. The offer than Nikolaj will likely spend the rest of their life in prison does seem to calm Pierro down a bit, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less worked up. He’s scrubbing his paws on his cheeks to try and diffuse the static flying from them.  
 _“Chu…”_ Pierro grumbles. 

Connor knows Pierro needs some way to work out this sort of stimulation, knows its unhealthy for him to try and keep it constantly tamped down, even if he weren’t what he was. Maybe Markus would know what to do. Markus… Markus always knows what to do.  
“I have an idea,” Connor says. Pichu looks up from where he’s scrubbing his face and tilts his head. “You want to _mmm-_ meet my friends? They will help. Happy. Very nice.” Connor explains, rapping his knuckles against his palm and bouncing slightly on his toes. “Teach you. Battle?”  
Pichu looks skeptical at the idea of fighting anyone.  
 _“Pichu…”_  
Connor shakes his head.  
“Just practice. Fun. You maybe like it? You must try. You…” Connor frowns. “You must…learn. Control. You hurt Gavin. Can’t do that. Maybe hurt yourself.”

Connor watches Pierro consider the offer while scrubbing his static-infused cheeks to dispel what he could. From what Connor had seen of the fights in Drift through Richard’s streams and registered evidence, Pierro is right to be nervous about being told to battle. The android just smiles and offers his hand. He would never force Pierro to fight, but it is truly the best option they have for getting his powers under control. The Pichu fluffs out his fur in a full-body shake and looks up, meeting Connor’s eyes before quickly turning and slapping his tail against his open palm, ears perked high and happy.

It’s a deal.

  
Pierro rides on Connor’s shoulder as they leave the meeting room and make their way back to Connor’s desk, just sitting quietly for a while so Connor can collect himself, playing with his quarter and showing the Pichu his coin tricks, which he finds endlessly entertaining. In the time it takes for Richard to end his interrogation and for Nikolaj to be escorted to a holding cell, catching Connor and Pierro’s glaring eyes on their way, the android has calmed considerably, sitting at a nice stress level of 36%. Higher than your usual android, but it’s Connor’s normal. He’s always run a little higher than others, even Richard unless the RK900 gets stuck in one of his atypical runtime loops.  
Hank returns to his own desk after a moment with a heavy sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. It’s gotten a little longer over the last few months. Connor thinks he’s due for a trim. Maybe he should offer to do it. The android waits a few minutes for Hank to disconnect from the intensity of the interrogation before speaking up.

“Do you think this will all lead back to CyberLife in the end?” Connor asks with a tilt of his head. Across from him, Hank sighs.  
“Dunno, kid. Looks that way.”  
“Honestly, Pokémon experimentation doesn’t sound out of the realm of possibility. But… Nikolaj couldn’t have been the only person to decide to do this, could they?”  
Hank looks over at Connor, the android’s LED spinning gold.  
“What’re you thinkin’?”  
“CyberLife. I don’t feel like we’ve solved a case, rather like I’ve only just started one.” Connor says, LED still gold. There was something just niggling at his brain telling him there was something he just wasn’t getting, a crucial piece of evidence he had missed or couldn’t comprehend. “There’s more to this, Hank.”  
The Lieutenant sighs and leans back in his chair.  
“Glad I ain’t the only one.” He says. He looks over to where Pierro is sitting on Connor’s desk, playing with Cerberus’s tail that flits back and forth over the edge of the desk. “So, what’re you gonna do with him?”  
“I meant what I said,” Connor says, “I’m going to train him. We’re going to New Jericho this afternoon.”  
“Need a lift?” Hank offers. Connor smiles and nods.  
“I’d appreciate it, thank you, Lieutenant.”

New Jericho is fairly strict with its' allowing of humans, Carl so far being the only exception, though the other leaders don’t really mind Hank either. He still isn’t allowed inside, which he respects and understands, but he can enter the property to drop off Connor. Other androids are a little…uncomfortable with the idea of a human walking around with a gun on their hip. As he exits the car, Connor informs Hank that he’ll return later in the evening, to which Hank just nods and shoos him on. He’s an adult, he doesn’t need Connor to nanny him 24/7. Connor knows by now that being rude is just Hank’s way of showing affection, so he smiles and shuts the door.

Pierro is anxious in a new place, especially one as wide open and bright as New Jericho. It’s crowded too, full of androids and Pokémon just going about their day. He hides away inside Connor’s jacket as the android walks through the halls of their sanctuary. Other androids smile at Connor and he smiles back, but not really stopping to make small talk. They know he’s here for business, it’s the only reason he’s really ever here. Riding the elevators up to the management floors where the offices have been converted into dorms, Connor makes his way to where he knows the leaders to reside, waiting for him. Markus has told him before that their door was open for him and to just let himself in, and though Connor knows his hand has always been able to unlock it, it still feels nice to be reminded that they trust him and he’s always welcome in their home.

North and Josh are playing some videogame together on the couch while Simon is curled up in a little armchair next to a window with a book in his lap, looking cozy. 

“Markus is in his studio, I told him you were here though,” North says without looking away from the screen. From what he can see, it’s a fighting game where each player controls a Pokémon of their choosing. He’s played it with her before.   
“Thank you, North,” Connor says.   
Josh pauses the game, much to North’s annoyance, and stands from the couch.  
“So what’s up? You don’t normally come to just, y’know, hang out.”  
Connor fidgets with his fingers.   
“Well, you see, I…” Pierro shuffles around inside Connor’s hood where he’s been hiding, “I…came across a Pokémon during that raid I told you all about.”   
That gets North’s attention and she sits back up, planting her feet on the ground.   
“The person running the ring? You catch the motherfucker?”  
“Yes. But I also— we also found several…concerning things in their possession, including—,”  
Pierro’s ears suddenly flip up behind Connor’s head, causing North and Josh to snort and Simon’s eyes to widen.  
“A Pichu?”

Connor turns his head and smiles.  
“It’s safe to come out,” he coos softly, “they’re my friends.”  
Pierro slowly peeks his head out from behind Connor’s and looks at the group. Simon shuts his book and tosses the blanket from off his lap so he can get up from the armchair. He adores baby Pokémon.  
“Oh my God—,”  
“It’s so fucking cute, holy shit—,”  
“It’s so fluffy!”  
Connor smiles at their reactions.  
“This is Pierro.”  
Pierro smiles shyly and waves.  
 _“Chu!”_

There’s a moment of silence that to a human might not have seemed very long at all, but for a group of androids was a considerable amount of time while the others took in the Pichu’s odd appearance. Simon is the first to speak.  
“…I’ll ask the obvious, then. Why does he…”  
“Look like this?”  
Simon and the others all nod.  
“That’s why I’m here, actually,” Connor says. “But I’ll wait for Markus—,”

The RK200 enters the room right then, dressed rather casually with paint splattered on his clothes with a little bit smeared on his chin and jaw from where he’d hold it and contemplate his next artistic decision, and for a moment Connor just stares at him in awe. This is the man who led a revolution, who crawled out of Hell, saw the worst of what humanity had to offer an android, and came out with love left in his heart and hope that things could be better. And he has **HEX #D0F0C0 RGB 208 240 192 [TEA]** smeared on his chin and the tips of his fingers.

“Wait for me for what?” Markus asks as he wipes down his face and hands with a damp towel Simon brings him. Connor snaps out of his daze and clears his throat. He goes on to explain what details of the case he can, of the things they discovered in the raid, and what Nikolaj had said in their interrogation.

“They also told of a project going on in CyberLife involving Pokémon being created in the Research and Development labs. TARU is still trying to go through everything on their personal laptop for proof, but did you ever find any evidence of something like that? Any files? Any…remains?” Connor asks. The group all hums and Connor knows if they had their LEDs they’d be spinning blue and yellow in thought. The result is a resounding no. Either Nikolaj was lying, which Connor doubts, or they were telling the truth about CyberLife being thorough in covering their asses about that kind of illegal experimentation.

“May I show you all what occurred during and after the raid? It’s…upsetting to speak of.”  
“Of course, Connor,” Markus says, gesturing an open palm to the LCD screen secured to the wall. It takes hardly a second for Connor to fully connect to it and broadcast the footage of Richard’s memory, being taken below the Chrysler plant and the rows upon rows of Pokémon in tubes, monitors and data readouts, and androids working under their influence, contributing to these horrid experiments. There’s a quick jump-cut before the footage switches to Connor’s point of view, walking through the makeshift lab with his gun drawn before he finds another tank away from the others under a tarp, forgotten, pushed to the side when it just wasn’t living up to anyone else’s exceptions.  
The room is quiet after the memory of Connor embracing the baby Pokémon ends with him wrapping it up in his jacket to keep it warm and dry.

“I had to take him,” Connor repeats, just as he had said to Hank, “I… I felt something new, something like—,”  
“Kinship.” North finishes. Connor looks to her with upturned eyebrows before nodding. He knew North would understand. She’s always understood him on an emotional level a little better than the others.  
“Exactly.”

In Connor’s lap, Pierro sits calmly, content to simply watch the others’ Pokémon wander and play freely. It’s like he doesn’t really know what to do, so he just sits and observes as if it would magically teach him how to play with others. 

“Now for the real reason I’m here.” Connor starts. “As you saw, Pierro was one of the experiments. We would both like to see just what he’s capable of, test his strength in a few battles if you wouldn’t mind. He needs help controlling himself, but I need it to be against someone I trust not to go easy on us just because of his appearance. He may look like a baby, and he is, but his power far exceeds that, I believe.” The RK800 explains. North smirks and crosses her arms, leaning back against the armrest of the couch.  
“I’ll do it. I’ve wanted to battle you seriously for a while. You make me feel bad throwing that fucking fish at me all the time.”  
Markus smiles as well.  
“Me too. I’d like to see what you’ve learned since the last time we battled. Simon?”  
Simon shakes his head.  
“I’m not quite in the mood. I’ll sit on the sidelines with Josh and observe.”

  
New Jericho has a “testing room” that’s since been renovated into a proper battle arena complete with shifting terrain that is easily reset in case of damage caused by attacks, just as any Pokémon gym would have, so they head there, Pierro’s wide eyes taking in more of the enormity of New Jericho, all the smells and sights of androids and their Pokémon. It’s so bright and shiny, sterile, yet lived in. This is a home to so many who need a haven, a place they can just relax and know they’re safe from those who might mean to hurt them.   
Arriving at the training room, Connor takes his place on one side of the arena while North takes the other. It’s a large room with multiple areas for training. There is four arenas total, and the room is along the outside of the building allowing for huge studio windows for natural lighting and a breathtaking sight of the skyline, especially during this time of day when this sun is just beginning to lower in the sky, lighting it up soft shades of lavender. At the moment, nobody else is here.  
Connor gently lifts Pierro from his shoulder and sets him on the ground.  
“You sure you want to do this? We can stop at any time, it’s just practice.” He reassures. Pierro takes a deep breath and looks up at Connor with a determined glint in his eyes.  
“Pichu.”

North smirks and plucks the first ball from her belt and tosses it out, her Arbok, Medusa, taking form and landing on the ground with a heavy thud and a hiss. Medusa elongates her serpentine body and lifts herself, spreading her hood fiercely. On the sidelines, Simon looks to both North and Connor before calling for the start of the match.

“Medusa, Glare! Freeze it!” North calls immediately. Medusa hisses and puffs up, locking her eyes on Pierro like he was prey she was hunting, eyes flashing different colors that mesmerize and paralyze Pierro with fear, the little Pichu trembling in every limb. “Strike!”  
“Pierro!” Connor calls out, “dodge it! You’ll be okay!”  
That little bit of assurance accompanied with his trainer calling his name snaps Pierro from his terror and he quickly jumps out of the way just as Medusa’s tail slams the ground where he stood a moment ago.  
“Thundershock!” Connor orders as Pierro’s flips in the air, and the Pichu curls into a ball to release some of the built-up static in his fur. Connor is glad to know he seems to at least know a Pichu-typical move at least. The Pichu is a bit wobbly on his feet when he lands, but Medusa is momentarily paralyzed by the Thundershock so he has time to find his footing. His cheeks still spark a bit, but he just shakes it off and bounces in place in celebration of his little success, which warms everyone’s heart, but his joy is short-lived as Medusa quickly recovers from her paralysis.  
Medusa suddenly rears her head back and screeches only moments before Connor can issue a warning to Pierro, the Pichu crying out in pain and tucking his ears down and covering them when the shockwaves hit his sensitive ears. As Medusa rapidly slithers up to him for an attack he can feel the ground vibrating, the face on her hood making him freeze in terror again. He can see the Arbok’s tail glowing white with toxic purple miasma, and he cries out in panic and distress, cheeks speaking brighter and his fur starting to raise on end, discharging a large AOE of electricity that stuns the serpent. Pierro jumps up quickly, his tail glowing a bright white and he quickly whips around mid-air to strike Medusa across the face with Iron Tail, then he jumps away. When he lands, his chest is heaving for breath while the others watch on impressed. Connor hadn’t given an order, Pierro was just acting on instinct. Not that Connor really could have given an order since he doesn’t know for sure yet just what attacks Pierro knows, but he’s slowly compiling a list. Thundershock, Iron Tail, and possibly Discharge.   
Medusa shakes off the Iron Tail and North calls her back. With a short hiss, Medusa bows her head to Pierro before she returns to her ball in a flash of red, North smirking, impressed. She walks off the arena to trade places with Markus who is practically vibrating with excitement. He hasn’t battled Connor in a long time — not since he told the other RK model to build a better bond with his Pokémon to truly draw out their strength as a team. Just as well, since before this, his only Pokémon was a Magikarp and that just wasn’t really much of a battle. Connor was always proud of her though, cooing over her and rewarding all her hard work with treats and daily swims in the river outside New Jericho.

…Markus thought it was cute.

  
“Is he good for another match?” Markus calls.  
“Pierro?”  
 _“Pi-cha!”_

There’s his answer. 

  
Amren, Markus’s Rockruff, barks eagerly at his side and dashes into the arena with a high-pitched yip, bouncing back and forth on her front and back feet. Pierro rubs his cheeks and fluffs his fur, his eyes locked on the brown puppy as Simon calls for the battle to begin.   
“Amren, Tackle, then Bite!” Markus shouts, and she makes a rapid dash for Pierro, colliding with him before Connor can tell him to dodge. Amren is faster than she used to be, much faster. Connor’s LED spins yellow as he allocates his plan to her increased speed. Shoved into the dirt, pinned under Amren, Pierro struggles to free himself before tucking his legs up under her chest and kicking her away.  
“Thundershock!”  
Pierro nods and curls up, discharging bolts of electricity with his arms extended to his sides and his ears tipped forward.  
 _“Picha!”_  
“Dodge it!” Markus yells, and Amren’s quick feet dash her away, the lightning scorching the ground only a second later. Pierro shakes his head to expel the excess static, locking his eyes on her.   
“Amren, Rock Throw!” The RK200 shouts, and Amren tosses her head back with a loud howl while her curly tail glows white, running circles around Pierro and leaving a shining trail of jagged rocks behind her before stopping and flinging them at him.  
“Quick Attack, Pierro, dodge them!”   
Pierro shouts an affirmative noise before quickly dashing forward, a blur of yellow as he dodges the rocks flying at him, a smirk growing on his face. Without Connor’s order, he quickly sidesteps behind her at the last moment and spins around, striking her with an Iron Tail that sends her skidding across the floor with a yelp. She’s quick to stands and she shakes the dirt from her fur, growling at Pierro. Markus isn’t sure how to feel about Pierro using moves that he isn’t told to, but he can’t deny that he has good instincts and a natural predilection for battling. His speed seems faster than a normal Pichu should be, but then again Connor said he was the product of genetic experimentation. He takes into account Pierro’s high speed and agility.  
“Use Stone Edge, it’s too big for him to dodge!” He calls, and Amren tosses her head back one more time with a loud howl that makes Pierro’s ears ring before she rears back on her hind legs and slams her front paws into the ground, shattering the earthen terrain as multiple jagged blue glowing stones emerge from the ground and make a jagged path to Pierro. He watches the stones with rapidly shifting eyes, a bit of panic making his cheeks spark.  
“Pierro,” Connor shouts, “jump on top of them and use Quick Attack!”  
Pierro’s ears suddenly perk up and he nods, taking a running jump at the sharp rocks and leaping on top of them, using his speed to hop from one to the other, left and right. He practically flies across the stones, the electricity in his body building until he’s almost glowing with it. Connor’s LED suddenly flashes red, and Markus’s would be too, as their preconstruction software connects what’s happening and they both call out at the same time for their Pokémon.  
“Pierro, _wait—!”_  
 _“Amren!”_  
The light coming off of Pierro is blinding and all the androids have to shield their eyes. Amren has hardly a second to move and dodge before Pierro’s body slams into her own, a critical hit from an accidental Wild Charge sending both Amren and Pierro flying in opposite directions from the force of the impact with a deafening blast. As the smoke clears and the dust settles, Markus and Connor quickly run into the arena to their downed Pokémon with Simon, Josh, and North joining them. Simon pulls his shoulder bag off his back and retrieves a spray potion from inside as well as a small syringe with a hollow needle at the tip. While Josh sprays the potions on Amren’s scrapes, Simon fills the barrel of the syringe with a shining yellow substance, pinching some of Amren’s skin together on her paw before inserting it. The label on the medicine says _PARALYZE._   
Connor scoops a dazed Pierro up into his arms and cradles him close as he approaches Markus and the others, guilt on his face, then on Pierro’s when he sees what he’s done.

“Markus, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know he— He didn’t mean to, I’m sure!” Connor rambles, voice panicked. Pierro’s ears drop.  
 _“Pichu! Pi Pichu-pi…”_ he whimpers, tears welling in his large brown eyes.

Markus looks up at them and raises a hand to silence them.  
“Calm down, she’s just fine.” He assures them. Sure enough, Amren’s eyes open after a few moments and she blinks, slowly getting her feet under her with some shaky balance, but she stands on her own and shakes out the lingering static in her fur. Her tail even wags a little as she looks up at Pierro and Connor.  
Josh now turns to them with another potion and offers it to Pierro. Connor kneels down on the ground with the rest of them and lets the PJ model apply the medicine to Pierro’s own small scrapes and cuts. The Pichu hisses and whimpers at the slight sting, but doesn’t do much to avoid it besides squirm in discomfort.  
At Connor’s side, Amren gets up on her hind legs and licks Pierro’s cheek, a show of forgiveness for what he’d done. Connor carefully lets Pierro back down to the ground to continue his interactions with the puppy.

 _“Pichu…”_  
 _“Raw-Raw. Rah!”_ She barks, tail wagging back and forth. 

The sun has sunk lower in the sky by now, the light of the room changing from dim yellow with blue shade to a fiery red and orange, the sun reflecting off the river like diamonds. It’s truly beautiful, Connor thinks, especially when that golden light hits Markus’s tanned skin just right—

 _“Rah…”_ Amren suddenly yips, turning to look at the sunset, walking as if in a trance towards the glass. Markus and the others suddenly all turn to look and watch, then turning their attention to the view, wondering if perhaps there’s something she can see or sense, but they see nothing. Nothing, at least, until the sun finally begins to sink below the horizon, and the sky surrounding it seems to gain a green aura.

**SCANNING…**

**CROSS REFERENCING…**

**SCAN COMPLETE**

**GREEN FLASH: RARE METEOROLOGICAL OPTICAL PHENOMENA THAT SOMETIMES OCCUR TRANSIENTLY AROUND THE MOMENT OF SUNRISE OR SUNSET**

Amren suddenly opens her jaws wide and howls loudly, the high-pitched sound echoing off the walls and floor, the increasing green light reflecting off her blue eyes, and her baying beginning to grow deeper in pitch. Howl after howl and bark, her body glows. Connor and the others watch in amazement as the collar of sharp stones around her neck begins to elongate and grow even sharper and tail unfurls until it nearly touches the ground, her ears untucking and limbs growing longer and more limber to accommodate the new size and shape of the rest of her body. The light around her reaches a luminosity that has even the androids shielding their eyes before it disperses like a glitter bomb and reveals Amren’s new evolved form, her fur orange like the sunset and eyes green as the light that had just illuminated the sky for hardly three seconds. She howls again, loud and proud and echoing off the walls and floors.

**SCANNING…**

**SCAN COMPLETE**

_// Breed:_ **LYCANROC**

_Forme:_ **DUSK**

_Type:_ **ROCK**

_Weakness:_ **FIGHTING, GROUND, WATER, STEEL, GRASS**

_Recommended Counter:_ **MAGIKARP**

_Bathed in the setting sun of evening, Lycanroc has undergone a special kind of evolution. An intense fighting spirit underlies its calmness. This strange form is the result of its evolving at dusk. It’s very rare._ \\\

  
Nearby, Pierro’s wide eyes are locked on the sight. He’d never seen evolution before, only knew it was something that was supposed to happen at some point or another. 84% of all Pokémon undergo evolution, and Pierro knows he’s supposed to be one of them. He just doesn’t know when or how.  
Connor smiles and looks up at Markus when Amren slowly turns away from the window now that the sun has set and the lights are gone.  
“Congratulations, Markus.” He says. “You two must have quite a strong bond.”  
Markus nods. He’d always wondered just what she would evolve into and what would cause it. He’d noticed in the last few days she was distant and knew from his internal dex that usually meant she would going to evolve soon, but a Dusk form wasn’t anything he could have imagined. He pets her on the head and gently scratches the spot between her ears where one larger stone projects out of the front of her mane and over her head like a Midnight form would have.  
Pierro looks up and to his left at Connor, sees the way he looks absolutely marveled at the evolution, and he gently presses his face into his arm. Connor smiles.  
“You did well, too, you’ll get better with practice. I promise you won’t have to be afraid of your abilities forever.”

Markus hums.  
“Yes… He’s incredibly strong, unusually so. I didn’t think Pichu could learn Wild Charge.”  
Connor sighs and lifts Pierro back up into his arms before he stands.  
“That’s why I’m here. As I told you, Pierro is the result of illegal experimentation. They took the genetic make-up base of a Raichu and spliced in Jolteon, Pachirisu, and Zebstrika, He’s…the only one that survived. The other Pichu never lasted longer than a few hours at least, a few days at most. He’s been alive for two to three weeks I’d say. Because of his makeup, there’s any number of attacks and abilities he could learn and come to use as he grows older, even if it’s something his breed isn’t meant to. He could learn Charge Beam, Hyper Fang, Rock Smash… Even Flame Charge if it’s something the Zebstrika knew when its DNA was taken. They also used Ditto DNA as well to fill the genetic gaps.”

The other four androids frown as they look over the tiny Pichu in Connor’s arms. Simon and Josh both reach out to pet him and all their hearts break when he instinctually flinches away from their hands at first before he relaxes once they actually touch him. Josh carefully catches under Pierro’s chin while Simon rubs his notched right ear. Connor smiles as Pierro starts to purr.  
“That’s why it’s so important for Pierro to learn to control himself - he’s still incredibly powerful and without proper training, he’s a danger to himself and others. A little too much built-up static and what was supposed to be Quick Attack turned into Wild Charge, completely bypassing Volt Tackle. He…accidentally shocked one of my coworkers yesterday. He had it coming, but Gavin is incredibly lucky it was just a small one.”  
Pierro drops his ears in shame, turning around to climb up to Connor’s shoulder so he could settle in his hood again, resting his head on his shoulder with a little sigh. Connor can smell ozone on his breath. 

“Then you’ll need help,” Simon says with a little smile, “and we’d be more than happy to do it. He deserves the normal life any other Pokémon has.”  
North, Josh, and Markus all nod in agreement, and their Pokémon cheer as well, eager to help a new friend. Connor smiles and bashfully bows his head.  
“Thank you all. We appreciate it.”

  
Markus sets the terrain of the arena to reset as they leave the room together, Pierro still riding on Connor’s shoulder, not interacting, but rather watching and observing the androids. They all seemed to be very good friends with the way they spoke so easily and joked and laughed, and even Connor was at ease. His focus was more contained to his trainer, however, and the way he just seemed so…different now. There was the Connor he knew at home and at work, and then the Connor he had seen when Markus had entered the room earlier, paint smeared on his skin and clothes. He hadn’t seen Connor look at anything or anyone like that before. 

There’s a wing of New Jericho that’s been repurposed into a Pokémon daycare, housing Pokémon with no specified owners and infants that Simon oversees with the help of other androids including Rupert, who has long since forgiven Connor for his role in the deviant investigation, and also greets the leaders with a friendly smile. The Ivysaur at his side also croaks a greeting, waving one of its vines like a hand. There are a few other androids in the daycare, both working and some are YK models that enjoy playing with the Pokémon in their spare time. The Pokémon in the daycare are either babies, too young to be separated from a parent, have special needs, or simply don’t have a trainer for themselves yet, and some are voluntarily trainer-less, preferring to be on their own and offering help to any around New Jericho who need it.  
Simon leads them inside and to the back into a small supply room filled with potions, medicines, and treats where he grabs a box of Poképuffs and opens it up, offering it to Pierro and Amren to pick their favorites. Amren growls happily and noses at a Mocha one with light brown color, while Pierro sniffs at the entire box and reaches for a Spiced puff like he had grabbed at the station with deep brown coloring. Simon smiles as Pierro takes a large bite of the little cake and is able to once again scratch him on the head between his ears, playing with the tuft of fluffy fur. He looks up at Connor.  
“Baby Pokémon are my favorite, I adore them.” He explains. It’s nothing nobody doesn’t already know, but Connor hasn’t actually seen Simon interact with them much so he’s never seen it for himself. “They remind me of the children I used to take care of.”  
Leaning against the counter nearby, Josh rolls his eyes.  
“Simon,” he snorts, “your favorite Pokémon is anything that looks like it’s got elevator music between its ears.”

Connor is confused by that analogy until a Wooper wanders into the back room with them and promptly falls flat on its face, and Simon nearly crumples to the floor with it right then and there. Everyone laughs as the PL600 kneels down and sets it right on its feet and ushers it back out to the main play area to join the other Pokémon. From where he sits on a table, Pierro watches the androids but is still mainly focused on Connor, that strange look on his face again from before when he’d first seen Markus now directed at Simon as he fawns over the baby Pokémon in the nursery. Pierro looks at Amren and taps her head.

 _“Rr?”_  
 _“Pichu. Pichu pi-picha?”_  
Amren rumbles as she smacks the puff in her mouth before swallowing it.  
 _“Rrr… Ly-rah. Ra-ro-rah-rah.”_ She laughs, tail wagging happily.   
_“Pii…”_ Pierro just nods and takes another bite of his own treat while he continues to observe the androids.

They leave the nursery to return to the large dorm the leaders share to continue talking, this time Pierro actually joining the other Pokémon on the floor instead of sitting in Connor lap again. It makes Connor happy to see Pierro socializing with other Pokémon, even if he is still a little shy. He’s currently engaged in a game of what appears to be hide-and-seek in the large loft with Amren, Fovaan and Lutra, Simon’s Vaporeon and Floatzel, Valeane, North’s Mawile, and Aster, Josh’s Starraptor.

“…There isn’t much I can say because there isn’t much I know,” Connor says, a cup of warm Thirium in his hands courtesy of Simon. “But we think CyberLife might be involved somehow. Nikolaj used to work for them in Research and Development, mostly a software technician. It might just be a coincidence, but something about it just doesn’t feel right. Some of the tools and machinery we found in the raid came straight from CyberLife labs, it would have been incredibly difficult to just…take something like that without anyone stopping them, even in all the chaos of the revolution.”  
“Is there anything in particular they said that makes you think this?” Markus asks.  
“Nikolaj clammed up once Nines started questioning them about potential CyberLife involvement in Pokémon experimentation.”  
“Wait, I thought you were questioning them,” North says from her spot lounged upside down over the back of the couch. Connor looks down and squeezes his fingers together.  
“I… I had an incident and had to remove myself from the interrogation room. Nines took my place.”  
“…Oh. Sorry.”

Markus nods in understanding and gently pats Connor on the shoulder. He knows how the other android gets when he’s overstimulated or stressed.  
“Thank you, Connor. Leigh’s friends will rest easy knowing justice was done. We’ll keep eyes and ears out for anything suspicious.”

Overhearing rumors is easy between androids, especially in New Jericho where so many congregate. The leaders all have their own little social circles among the residents with their duties so it’s easy to find out who is saying what and where they heard it from.

“Will you be staying with us for tonight?” Markus asks. After a day like today, a nice night in with some movies or video games or even a bit of quiet but surrounded by friends would be good for Connor.  
“Yeah!” North cheers, sliding sideways to right herself. “Come on, Connor, it’s been forever since you had a night in with us!”  
“I’m pretty tired of her constantly kicking my ass at those fighting games, you’re the only one who’s ever beaten her.” Josh offers. Simon doesn't say anything, just smiles and nods invitingly. Unfortunately, Connor declines with a shake of his head.  
“Maybe another time, I have plans with Hank tonight.”

They’re visually a little letdown, but understanding of both Connor’s bond with Hank and his dedication to a set schedule. If something throws Connor off his schedule or routine, he becomes incredibly distressed. They don’t try to talk him into staying, they simply accept that Connor will in fact dedicate a time to spend a night in with them and offer instead to walk him out to the front of New Jericho where he says an automated taxi is waiting for him. Once there, they all say their goodbyes and Pierro even allows himself to be pet by each of them now that he knows that they won’t hurt him and even more so that they’re friends of Connor, and Connor wouldn’t hurt him either. Connor himself has gotten better over the last few months with physical touch so he’s very receptive to the farewell hugs he receives. North is the last to hug him, popping up on the tips of her toes and giving his cheek a small kiss before letting go of him. His cheeks flush blue and his thirium pump quickens in his chest.

“I… I'll see you all later.” He says quietly, thoroughly embarrassed.  
 _“Pichu!”_ Pierro waves.

Connor climbs into the taxi and closes the door, waiting until the car begins moving before he draws his knees up to his chest in the seat, still blushing furiously. In the seat across from him, Pierro simply sits and stares, head on his paws and a little smirk on his face. After a few minutes when Connor finally lifts his head, Pierro speaks up.  
 _“Pichu,”_ he coos playfully, _“Picha-pi, pichu.”_  
Connor groans.  
“rA9, not you too… Of course I like Markus! Who wouldn’t? He’s… He’s him! He’s strong and smart and capable and…he’s just really amazing. They all are. I’m so lucky to be considered their friend. North just…likes to tease me. It’s alright, she just thinks it’s fun, I’m not hurt by it.”  
Pierro drops his ears. Amren had told him that Markus and the others care deeply for Connor and want him to join them entirely, but they don’t know how to extend the offer in a way Connor will both understand or accept. From what Pierro can tell, Connor likes them too, but either doesn’t know or is in denial about how he feels. 

\+ + +

North sighs once the taxi finally disappears from view, cocking her hips and crossing her arms. She looks at Markus.  
“If I have to watch him think he’s being slick while giving you baby-doll-eyes one more time, I’m gonna throw up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this house we love pining Connor


	16. Flashbang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next in line for questioning after Nikolaj is the people they hired. The majority of the people detained are androids, but there are a few humans as well, like the one Richard is currently sitting across from in room 1, nervously picking at his black fingernails and chipping the paint into a small pile.
> 
> Julien Mitchells, known around The Drift and Nikolaj’s lab as Flash.
> 
> Hank and Connor are in observation on the other side of the glass while Richard simply stares at Flash, waiting for the human to say anything. Usually in interrogation, people rush to defend themselves, but Flash has been quiet, calm, and sad. It’s ten minutes before he says anything. Pale pink eyes lift to Richard’s face.  
> “…this all happened ‘cause of Leigh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long y'all!!!! literally half my chapters for this got deleted! like, half the chapters itself gone for multiple chapters so I have to rewrite them!

Walking into the precinct, Connor sets Pierro down on the desk and gets to work trying to piece together more of what the people in TARU found in Nikolaj’s personal computer. There’s a good bit of encrypted data on it and it's taking them a bit longer than they thought it would to understand it all. For someone who supposedly didn’t feel like what they were doing was wrong, there’s a lot of security on their private technology to keep anyone undesirable from looking where they shouldn’t. 

Pierro is comfortable where he sits on Connor’s desk, a small bowl of granola clusters and fresh berries for breakfast in his lap as he watches everyone in the precinct get settled in for their workdays. People walking around, looking through the cabinets in the aisle between the desks, talking with their friends and coworkers, getting coffee from the break room or enjoying thermoses of stuff brought from home or cardboard cups of something from a café. Pokémon at their trainer’s side or sitting patiently at their desks, Growlithe and Herdier and even one large Braviary perched on top of one of the dividers separating the walkway from the desk area. A Scrafty walks in after a few moments followed shortly after by Gavin, who drops off a motorcycle helmet and his jacket at his desk around the back of his chair before making his way to Tina in the break room. Pierro watches him, making sure neither him nor Puck are watching him before he looks back to Gavin’s jacket with a grin. He carefully hops down from Connor’s desk, drawing the android’s confused gaze, and quickly makes his way to the other detective’s desk, snickering to himself all the while. Looking up at the dangling sleeve of Gavin’s jacket, he grins while rubbing his cheeks, static clinging from his palms to the blue pouches.   
A hot puff of sulfur-smelling breath on the back of his neck that rustles his fur and the sound of sharp claws on black tile freezes him. He turns around only for his nose to rub with Cerberus’s, Richard’s Houndoom. A large, looming, menacing creature with a brindles hide like hellfire itself that most people were afraid of based on appearance and superstition, but anyone who met the thing knew he was an immense sweetheart, just like his trainer. Pierro just gives a nervous smile that makes Cerberus raise an eyebrow before moving on to Richard’s desk and sitting like a sentinel, back straight and eyes forward. Richard himself, who had been Gavin’s ride to work that morning, also walks up and looks down at him. He just sighs.

“You’re only in trouble if you get caught.”  
“Nines!” Connor says, “Don’t teach him that!”  
“You told him to be petty, Connor.”

Pierro smirks and nods at the taller RK model before jumping up just high enough to reach Gavin’s sleeve and he discharges a small amount of static from his cheeks into the woolen fabric that lines the inside before he quickly scampers back to Connor’s desk right before Gavin would be able to see him. Gavin places his coffee on his desk when he returns and he slides his jacket back on and goes to startup his terminal, only to quickly jerk back when it shocks him.  
“Ah, fuck—,”  
Gavin sighs and shakes his hand, getting shocked again when he retries. Pierro snickers quietly into Connor’s shoulder while Connor remains straight-faced, though inside he’s head he’s practically doubled over in laughter. Gavin shocks himself on his computer, on his phone, on his desk, literally everything around him is made of metal that only absorbs only small bits of the static Pierro infused into his jacket, which creates more static friction the more he moves and just screws him over. Pierro has gone from muffled giggles into Connor’s shoulder to laughing out loud, his cheerful chortles and Gavin’s constant swearing quickly drawing everyone’s attention to them.

“What the fuck did you do?”   
Connor and Pierro both look at him, the Pichu losing his laugh and immediately dropping to a flat stare.  
“I haven’t done anything, Gavin. You arrived almost immediately after I did, and you could see me from the coffee machine. I haven’t moved.”  
“Then it was that fuckin’ freak Pichu of yours! What the fuck did—,”  
Connor lifts a hand.  
“Ah, I suggest you stop there, Gavin. He doesn't take kindly to insults, as I’m sure you remember.”  
Pierro and Gavin lock eyes, and the Pichu smirks and bares his sharp teeth. Gavin glares back and forth between Pierro and his bandaged hand. Connor hums and leans forward a bit.  
“You know…” he says, glancing at the drawer of his desk he put the motorcycle helmet in, “close proximity with an android for an extended period of time can create a build-up of static. Just a little…tip.” He winks.  
Gavin squints in confusion before realization dawns on his face and he quickly backs off, practically shoving himself away from Connor’s desk.  
“You— No— you shut the hell up, Connor! You don’t know anything, so mind your own fucking business!” He shouts before stomping back to his desk and pouting into his coffee after tearing off his jacket.  
At his own desk just next to Connor, Hank, who just witnessed all this, just raises an eyebrow.  
“…did Pierro actually do that?”  
“Yes.”  
“…and is what you said about androids true?”  
Connor smirks.  
“Not at all. I just wanted Gavin to know that I know what he and Richard were doing in the alley next to the precinct for the last ten minutes.”  
“You’re a real piece of shit, Con,” Hank laughs into his own mug of coffee before setting it down and fixing his curious eyes on Connor.  
“Be honest with me, kid. Are you…actually totally fine with Rich and Gavin being..y’know…a thing?”  
“Oh, far from it. I still don’t like Gavin. I think he’s rude and impersonal and stomps on people’s toes to get ahead in a game nobody can actually win or lose. He’s violent when he’s angry, which is fairly often given his short temper, and he doesn't see what good things he has before they’re gone. Despite all of that, however…Richard loves him. I may not understand their relationship, but I’m not going to do anything about it. Nines is happy and that’s all that matters to me. He sees and knows a side of Gavin I don’t think anyone else does, something he had to work very hard to earn. It means a lot to him. He… They both deserve that kind of happiness, and if they can provide it for each other then who am I to stop it?”  
Hank listens carefully to Connor’s words before smiling.  
“You were so worried all those months ago that you wouldn’t be good at this sort of thing, but I gotta say, Con, you’re a damn fine brother.”  
“…thank you, Hank. I’m trying my best.”

  
+~+

  
Next in line for questioning after Nikolaj is the people they hired. The majority of the people detained are androids, but there are a few humans as well, like the one Richard is currently sitting across from in room 1, nervously picking at his black fingernails and chipping the paint into a small pile.

Julien Mitchells, known around The Drift and Nikolaj’s lab as Flash.

Hank and Connor are in observation on the other side of the glass while Richard simply stares at Flash, waiting for the human to say anything. Usually in interrogation, people rush to defend themselves, but Flash has been quiet, calm, and sad. It’s ten minutes before he says anything. Pale pink eyes lift to Richard’s face.  
“…this all happened ‘cause of Leigh.”  
Richard nods.  
“It was the discovery of his body that began this investigation, yes.”  
“It was that guy who bought the Zangoose,” Flash says. “He shouldn’t have been given one of Nikolaj’s Pokémon, I told them he wouldn’t have been able to handle it, but all Nikolaj cared about was getting the money. Now, Leigh’s dead and we’re all going to jail.”  
Flash leans back in his chair and slumps down, eyes falling to his fidgeting fingers again. Richard tilts his head slightly.  
“You seem rather resigned to your fate. It could be avoided if you help us.”  
“I mean, yeah. Sure, I’ll help. But…then what? I don’t go to prison, maybe, but I’m right back on the street begging for peoples’ pocket change and sleeping under overpasses. That’d be fine but y’all took Arlow too — she’s the only protection I would’ve had out there. So, yeah, I’ll help, I’ll tell you anything and everything you wanna know that I can answer, but I don’t want a deal. I don’t care if I go to jail, it’ll be better than living on the street again.”

Richard frowns, LED flashing yellow for just a moment. It’s a common sentiment the young man shares with many in his position. Anywhere is better than the streets, literally anywhere. He’ll go to prison if it means he has a bed, shelter, food, and water.

“…I see. I’m sorry, Julien.”

Flash winces at the use of his own name, biting at his bottom lip and scraping more paint from his nails.

“I’ve been going by Flash for so long, y’know. I almost forgot what my real name is. It’s…weird.”

“I can continue to call you Flash if you prefer.” Richard offers.

Flash nods.  
“Yeah… Yeah, thanks.” He says, looking up at the android. His pale pink eyes flit over Richard’s appearance and he smirks with a short huff of air, nearly a laugh. “Y’know, I had you pegged for a cop the moment I saw you.”  
“Really? How so?”  
“…let’s just say I’ve dealt with enough undercover cops tryna bust me that I could spot you from a mile away.”

Richard recalls the scan he had done on Flash from when they’d first met, his criminal record showing a past in solicitation. Ah. He nods and adjusts his sleeves.  
“I see. So, you knew I was a cop undercover, and yet you persisted in scouting me. Why?”

Flash shrugs.  
“Dunno. Guess I… Guess I hoped that you’d find that guy who killed Leigh, get him some justice. Thought maybe some cops sniffing around would make Nikolaj careful.”

“It obviously did not.”

“Nope.” Flash pops the ‘p’. “Just stroked their ego, I think, knowin’ you boys were interested in their, uh, merchandise. Prob’ly thought you were dirty.”

“Speaking of Nikolaj’s ego, after some one-on-one time with them, my brother and I have come to notice that Mxr. Volkov exhibits classic signs of psychopathy. They’re extremely manipulative, they don’t feel guilt or remorse for their actions, and they’ve even outwardly expressed belief they weren’t doing anything wrong. Entirely the opposite, in fact. What do you think?”

Flash sighs deeply through his nose.  
“Yeah, sounds about right. For a long time I fuckin’ worshipped the ground Nikolaj walked on. They got me off the street, y’know? Got me clean, fed me, gave me work, paid me, I didn’t care what I was doing. Not that I didn’t know it was wrong, but…for a while Nikolaj made me feel like it wasn’t so bad. We were just giving people what they wanted. They said there’s always a price for progress.”   
Flash sniffles and tries to wipe his eyes, but his wrists chained to the table kept him from it. He turns his head and tries to use the sleeve on his shoulder.  
“Being free was better than being in those tubes, putting them down was better that watching them slowly die in horrible pain from defects and deformities… You never saw what a failed Pokémon looked like…”

Richard, watching him with a slightly tilted head and drawn eyebrows, slowly reaches out and takes hold of Flash’s trembling hands while the man cries. His hands are pale and cold and shaking, scars adorning his knuckles and the sides of his wrists.   
“…It’s not your fault, Flash. Nikolaj is very charismatic. You aren’t the only one with wool over their eyes.”  
“I- I know.” Flash shudders, pulling his hands back from Richard’s and clenching them into tight fists, digging his nails into his palms. “I tried to talk to the others but I was afraid of what would happen if any of it got back to Nikolaj, if they thought I was gonna turn on ‘em. DeSoto’s a scary motherfucker, I watched her snap a Bouffalant femur right in two during a battle with just her teeth.”  
“Intimidation is a key factor in loyalty for someone like Mxr. Volkov. You likely aren’t the only one afraid of them, either… Can you tell me anything about Charlie, the HK400?”  
“HK400…? Oh, Corvus? Uh, he’s cool, I guess. Kept to himself, never really talked much. I know he’s got a boyfriend or somethin’, but not much beyond that. You gonna question him too?”  
Richard nods.  
“Yes, he’s actually with my partner right now. Out of everyone we detained, you’re the only one to actually say anything.”

Flash looks up at Richard, meeting his eyes. He looks so tired, so ready for this to all be over so he can finally just get what he deserves.  
“Nikolaj saved all of us. The rest of ‘em figure the same as me, but actually give a shit what happens after all this. Anything is better than the street, even jail. ‘Specially for the droids.” Flash blinks and looks down. “Ah, sorry. That’s, uh…”  
Richard raises a hand, shushing Flash with his palm.  
“You meant no offense and I take none. I understand their fears. The streets are dangerous for my people. Do they not think there will be a place for them in New Jericho?”  
Flash shrugs.  
“Guess not. Shame’s a pretty powerful thing.”  
“Indeed.” Richard says, gathering the file from the table and gathering his things. “Well, thank you, Flash. You’ll be escorted back to a holding cell for the time being. Are you hungry?”  
“…a little bit.” He says quietly.  
Richard smiles kindly as he stands from the table.  
“Then I’ll have someone find you something to eat. No allergies or dietary restrictions, I presume?”  
“…no. Thank you.”

The interrogation ends there, Richard leaving the room with a little sigh. He goes to the observation room on the other side of the glass and walks inside where Hank and Connor are still sitting. Gavin is in the other interrogation room with the HK400, Charlie, being observed by Chris and Ben. Hank greets the RK900 with a short nod and looks back to the window. Flash is picking at his nail polish again, all of it nearly chipped off now in a pile on the table, and he’s singing to himself. It’s depressing to see someone, a victim of circumstance, prefer to go to prison just because it seemed like a better option compared to whatever else was waiting for them.

_“I keep skipping stones, hoping for a change_   
_But things just stay the same…”_

**PROCESSING…**   
**100%**

**Band: Imagine Dragons**   
**Track: Skipping Stones**

  
“Poor kid.”  
“I agree,” Connor says, resting his chin on his palm. “He truly doesn't care what happens to him as long as Nikolaj is properly punished.”  
Richard nods as well, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms, looking at the young man in the chair.  
“…is there anything we could do for him?”  
“I don’t know.” Connor leans back in his own chair, resting his ankle on his knee. “Maybe… I don’t know. Simon would know what to do. We’ve been thinking of employing humans at New Jericho for various tasks to try and bridge the gap between our cultures, but unfortunately, many androids still feel unsafe in the presence of humans. If we were to offer Flash a position, he’d have to get approval from Markus.”  
Hank raises an eyebrow in Connor’s direction.  
“Think Markus’ll actually clear him with a record like this?”  
“His record contains non-violent offenses and he’s open and accepting and friendly to androids. New Jericho is also all about second chances and starting over. But I’ll have to ask. Don’t tell him, though. I don’t want him to get his hopes up just in case Markus does end up saying no.”  
Hank chuckles and pats his back.  
“Throw those doe eyes at Markus and he’ll probably do anything you’ll ask.”  
“I’m certainly hopeful that my positive relationship with Markus will increase the chances of him admitting Flash entry to New Jericho.”

Hank just sighs as Chris sends him a confused look then mouths ‘later’ at the man, which just makes Chris shrug and lean back in his chair.

“Okay, Con, you uh…you do that. I’ll find something for the kid to eat. Rich, go check on Gavin. If Charlie ain’t talkin’ then we’ll try again later. Of, I guess you or Connor could do it. Android solidarity and all.”  
“Yes, Lieutenant,” Richard says before leaving the room. 

Pierro is still looking through the glass as he stands on his toes, paws up and eyes locked on Flash. Connor notices and leans down.

“Do you know him?” He asks.  
 _“Pi. Pichu pi-cha._ ”  
“…was he kind to you? You don’t look afraid.”  
Pierro turns to face Connor and nods.  
 _“Chu.”_ He says, then tilts his head slightly. _“Pi… Pichu pi? Pichaaaa?”_  
Connor hums in thought, LED spinning as he looks back at the young man in the chair.  
“Alright. Just for a moment before he’s transferred back to holding. Hank,” he says, drawing the man’s attention.  
“Hm?”  
“I’m bringing Pierro in to see Flash.”

Flash looks a little surprised when Connor walks in, but then shakes his head. He likely thought Connor was Richard for a moment before realizing the truth.  
“You here to take me to holding?”  
“No,” Connor says, arms folded politely behind his back, “I have someone here who wants to see you.”  
“Huh? Nobody wants to see me, cop man.”  
 _“Pi!”_ Pierro chirps from the floor before he hops up on the chair across from Flash, then climbs on the table. Flash blinks as he looks at the Pichu that approaches his cuffed hands and he smiles, lifting a few fingers to gently scratch under his chin.  
“H-hey buddy…”  
 _“Pichu!”_  
Flash lifts his eyes back to Connor.  
“Y’know, I… I wondered what was gonna happen to him. He… He was the last one. Nikolaj was giving up on this combination. They made me…test the Pokémon they made in battles and every time I had to test him, I… I hated it. He’s just a fuckin’ baby, man. I- I told Nikolaj you can’t push ‘em too hard or it’s gonna go bad but they just didn’t care. They said that— that if it died then that just means it was a failure. We couldn’t sell someone faulty product. Oh, Arceus, there were so many…”  
Connor frowns.  
“I’m sorry, Flash. There’s no forgiving what Nikolaj did to anyone, but there’s justice, and I’m afraid that’s all I can offer you.”  
“Yeah,” Flash scoffs, “if you can even touch ‘em. Nik’s CyberLife, prob’ly got some friends in high places.”  
“…you know of their connections? Actual communication with CyberLife?”  
“Not explicitly, but some of the tech had that weird hexagon thing on it and…there was some other logo on a few papers lying around and on an email or two. It looked like CyberLife but…different? Some kind of moon, I think.”  
“Are you absolutely certain?”  
Flash sighs again.  
“Man, I dunno. They looked real official and I heard a few phone calls that sounded pretty important.”  
“Could you recall any names, by chance?”  
“Uh… There was, uh, someone I only heard Nikolaj call Konica. There was…someone-Abele. Cecil? Simon? Something with that sound. And someone else in an email, I remember, Justin Atwood. He and Nik talked on the phone like they were old buds. Sorry I don’t know anything more specific.”

Connor is already running all these names through his database, LED flickering.  
“How were you aware that Mxr. Volkov previously worked for CyberLife?”  
Flash shrugs, still anxiously petting at Pierro’s fur.  
“Lotta know-how about androids. They fixed up newbies off the street, and it seemed like more than a hobby. And, I mean, had to be getting all those supplies and money from somewhere, right? I don’t think just anyone could get their hands on that kinda tech.”

Tina walks in just then to escort Flash back to his holding cell, leaving Connor and Pierro in the interrogation room while the android is still looking over the names, but they leave as well soon after and go to Connor’s desk while he thinks, Pierro sitting in his lap.

Justin Atwood, previous employees of CyberLife and head of manufacturing. If Nikolaj was previously in Research and Development, it’s likely they’d know Atwood rather personally. Cecil Abele, previous CyberLife employee, was the head of Research and Development and Nikolaj’s old supervisor. Then there was Konica Bolero, not an official for CyberLife, but rather a sponsor. New money getting newer and richer. She’s smart, knows when and where to play her cards. If she’s aware of Nikolaj’s experiments, it’s likely she commissioned them. If pleased, she could have offered to get them started in some official capacity and is the funding behind what they’ve been doing. Perhaps a special order. In the different articles with her picture, she seems to live quite lavishly — a few Pokémon from Nikolaj and she wouldn’t have to worry about real bodyguards or security anymore. He looks up as Hank returns from wherever he’d gone to get food for Flash and smiles as he spots the to-go bag in his hand from a nearby burger joint. Hank was a kind man.

“Didn’t know what you like but the boys said you weren’t allergic to nothing or, like, vegan, so… I got you a burger and some fries. That okay?” Hank asks.  
Flash takes the greasy brown bag hesitantly, eyes locked on Hank.  
“…yeah. Thanks, uh…Officer.” He says then squints at the badge on Hank’s hip before correcting himself. “Lieutenant, sorry.”  
Hank waves the kid off.  
“I heard your interrogation, kid. You really don’t care what happens to you?”  
Flash swallows down the bite he’d taken and sighs.  
“Of course I do. I just know the cards I got dealt: homeless or in jail. I’ll take a secure cell over sleepin’ under an overpass.”  
Hank frowns and leans against the doorway.  
“I’m sorry things turned out this way for you, kiddo. Good people in bad places — too much of it in this sorta life. The real bad guys are the reason you’re even in here.”  
“Maybe so,” Flash says as he sips at the cola Hank had also gotten him. “But I’ve accepted my life. One son good — the other good for nothing, y’know?”  
“…yeah.” Hank sighs, uncrossing his arms and backing out of the cell. “See ya ‘round, Flash. Eat a bit slower, though, yeah? Gonna make yourself sick shovelin’ it down like that.”


	17. Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something Gavin’s noticed about androids is they’re a very trusting people in most cases. There are a few exceptions, like Charlie here, or Richard’s friend Otto, and that one pretty red-headed girl Connor hangs out with, but for the most part, they trust fairly easily and take people at their word. Not that Richard’s a liar, and certainly isn’t lying now, but it’s just interesting to see how a promise like that is so easily believed without much more skepticism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for homophobia at the end of this chapter

Gavin gives up eventually on trying to question Charlie, leaving the interrogation room with a huff and harshly plopping down in a seat in the observation room, an irritated scowl on his face.

“Fucker won’t say a damn thing.”  
From where he stands behind Gavin’s chair, Richard hums.  
“Yes, Flash seemed to think he wouldn’t.”  
“You wanna give it a shot, big guy?”  
“I could try. Hank suggested the possibility that ‘android solidarity’ would make Charlie more responsive to one of his own.”  
Gavin shrugs.  
“He’s all yours.”

The questioning goes largely the same for Richard, Charlie not saying anything and just looking afraid and uncomfortable in the room. He keeps his mouth shut or shrugs at every question, probably thinking that if they can’t get anything from him then they’ll have to let him go. It’s true that they only have a little while longer to keep Charlie without charging him, but that doesn’t mean Richard’s going to give up on getting answers for him.

“I see.” He says with a finality to his voice that makes even Gavin’s eyebrows draw together in confusion as he watches from the other side of the window. Richard never just…gives up. But the android continues speaking as he gathers up the files and begins to stand. “We’ll be contacting your fiancé then to inform him that you’ve been detained and to come pay your bail and take you home.”

Gavin winces. That’s a low blow, but Richard is nothing if not someone who plays dirty when he has to. It gets a reaction at least. Charlie shoots up straight, LED flashing red.  
“No!” He shouts. “No, please— Please, don’t do that! Lucas doesn’t know — he thinks I’m still just a DJ, he can’t know what I’ve been doing!”  
Richard tilts his head innocently as if Charlie didn’t just play right into his hands.  
“He’ll end up figuring it out himself if he sees the news and connects that to you not coming home last night or reaching out to him.”  
“You don’t understand, he’ll leave me! We’re so close, I can’t— He can’t find out!”  
“Close?” Richard asks, sitting down again. “Close to what?”  
Charlie frowns and sighs, slumping in his chair. He fidgets with his fingers.  
“…we’re gonna run away together, elope in Canada. His family doesn’t… They don’t approve of me, they never have. They tried to have me taken away and destroyed during the revolution, but…Lucas took me to Jericho, told his family and the cops that I’d run away and he didn’t know where I went. He— He risked so much to save me, man, I… I just wanted to… Nikolaj was offering me money, so much money, if I just worked for ‘em for a while. I’d be set, I could get Lucas and me away from here, we’d never have to come back.”  
Richard’s LED blinks blue as he processes the story. He can see on Charlie’s file that he was purchased by Lucas’s friends a few years ago in a group effort to help him out during his recovery from a car accident that left him in a wheelchair for a fair amount of time, during which he was unable to clean his house, bathe properly, or really feed himself. Richard assumes that somewhere during that time, Charlie must have deviated and they’d fallen in love. The android sighs quietly.  
“…if you cooperate with us, Charlie, we might be able to help you. You and Lucas could still live your dream and get out of Michigan, you just need to talk to me. If you were just a victim of circumstance who Nikolaj manipulated, we can make a deal.”  
The HK400 looks up at him with golden eyes.  
“…will it keep me outta jail? You promise?”  
“Indeed, as long as the information you provide to us about Nikolaj and their associates is true, you won’t be charged with complicity, but rather trespassing. That building was condemned, after all, but it would just be a fine at the most, and no jail time will be served.”  
That seems to be enough to let the stress drain from Charlie’s shoulders with a long sigh.  
“Couple hundred dollars and a record for trespassing? You won’t… Nothing about the ring? The Pokémon? The gambling?”  
“Not a thing, you have my word.”

Something Gavin’s noticed about androids is they’re a very trusting people in most cases. There are a few exceptions, like Charlie here, or Richard’s friend Otto, and that one pretty red-headed girl Connor hangs out with, but for the most part, they trust fairly easily and take people at their word. Not that Richard’s a liar, and certainly isn’t lying now, but it’s just interesting to see how a promise like that is so easily believed without much more skepticism. 

“Well, shit,” Charlie shrugs, “if that’s all and I really don’t have to worry about jail…then I’ll tell you everything I know.”  
Richard smiles in accomplishment, a small “mission successful,” popping up in his vision.  
“First, I’d like you to confirm these names for me. Cecil Abele, Justin Atwood, and Konica Bolero. Do you know them?”  
Charlie nods.  
“Yeah, Nikolaj was talking’ to ‘em pretty often, I think. I remember making Pokémon special order and Nikolaj name-dropped Konica Bolero like it was supposed to mean something to me. I never met any of ‘em in person though. Never met most customers in person, that was a scout’s job like Flash and Leigh. Sorry.”  
“That’s alright, it’s enough you were able to confirm the names. Now, your…colleague, Flash, mentioned you were part of this before him, correct? How long?”  
“Uhh…” Charlie rubs the back of his neck, “kinda the beginning, I think. I really am a DJ, I—,”  
“Yes, I recall seeing you in the booth behind the turntables and mixer at Drift.”  
“Yeah… Nikolaj let me DJ there in exchange for my help. I handled the Pokémon at the beginning until they started testing them at the fights, then I was sorta…security? I was supposed to keep an eye out for anyone looking suspicious and report to Flash or Leigh or someone else, it depended on who was there.”  
Richard nods in understanding.  
“I see. So, Nikolaj didn’t always take these…commissions?”  
Charlie shakes his head.  
“No, no, not until someone contacted them. I dunno who, maybe one of those people you mentioned? Someone just called one day and the next thing I know I’m downloading data packets on microbiology and gene-splicing from another android that taught the stuff in a university.”  
“So someone contacted Nikolaj and then the experiments began?”  
“Mostly? Like, in a serious way. It was mostly just breeding up until that point, but…”  
“Yes?”  
“Nik was always talkin’ about CyberLife, what they let go of, that they could have continued the world they started if they hadn’t gotten so spooked by the revolution. Kamski didn’t give us the tower for months, they could have made more ‘progress’, they said. It was like an obsession, it was fuckin’ weird and I really didn’t like the way they seemed to cling onto CyberLife considering, y’know,” Charlie gestures to the LED on his temple, “it just made me super uncomfortable.”  
“That’s understandable. Many androids dislike residing in the tower because of its past, you aren’t alone in your discomfort when it comes to the company. Now, in Nikolaj’s emails, we found one with no signature, rather an insignia at the bottom. Do you recognize it at all?”

Richard slides over a printout of the email exchange signed with only a strange logo at the bottom. It looks like the CyberLife logo but with an eye in the center of it with a right-facing crescent moon in the middle of the iris. After a moment, Charlie shakes his head.  
“No, sorry. I never went snooping, I just wanted to keep my head down.”  
“Just collecting a paycheck, then.”  
Charlie glares at the other android.  
“Hey man, I just wanna get Lucas outta here, get him the shit he deserves. He needs hormones, surgeries, but his family won’t let him. They’ve threatened him if he went through any of it under their insurance, and they threaten me every time they see me. We… I just wanna get him away from it all so he can finally be happy. He deserves it with all the shit he’s been through. Wouldn’t you do anything for someone you love, Detective?”

Gavin watches the way Richard reacts. Someone less versed in the reserved android’s mannerisms might not notice, but Gavin’s been putting up with the bastard for like, a year and a half now, nearly two years, and they also live together. He knows when something bothers him. It’s in the way he slowly sits up straight and his face relaxes into something resembling neutral and cool. He also knows that Charlie just tossed ice-water in Richard’s face with that comment. The RK900 is more of a bleeding-heart than fucking Connor or Markus, and that’s saying something. He just lets out a deep, controlled sigh.

“…you’ll be escorted back to a holding cell and you’ll be given access to our phone system to contact Lucas under the supervision of an officer. If your information proves true, then the deal will be extended to you and you will only receive a charge for trespassing and can pay the $250 fine. Thank you for your help, Charlie. I… I hope you and Lucas will be able to live your dream together, I really do.” He says as he stands and leaves the room.

He doesn’t go back to observation, though, but rather just stands in the hallway just outside the interrogation room door and sighs heavily once it slides shut and locks, then puts his face in his hands while his LED burns red. The door to his left hisses open and footsteps come to rest in front of him.

“…hey, babe. Y’alright? I, uh, saw all that.” Gavin says, leaning down some with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, now finally defused of all static.  
“It’s just what he said to me; if I would do anything for the people I loved.” Richard sighs as he drops his hands and lets them fall to his sides.  
Gavin tilts his head.  
“Yeah, and you would, wouldn’t you?”  
“Of course I would, Gavin. If you, or Connor, or Tina, Hank, Reyn, Otto, Ruby — if any of you needed my help for whatever reason, I’d drop everything without a thought and do whatever I could to help. Especially with what he said about Lucas…”  
“You mean his treatments?”  
Richard nods.  
“If you needed help paying for your hormones or surgeries, I would do everything possible to make it happen. I… I’m not saying Charlie was doing the right thing, only that I understand his reasoning.”  
Gavin puts a hand on the android’s shoulder and squeezes it.  
“I understand too, but Connor says all those names are legit and that was some great intel he gave us about Nikolaj and their connection to CyberLife, so Charlie’s gonna be just fine. Well, maybe a little sore from the well-earned smack upside the head Lucas is gonna give him. If you hid something like this from me, I’d beat your ass.”  
That comment makes Richard smile a little and Gavin feels good about that. It’s always good to know you’ve cheered somebody up.  
“C’mon, let’s take a few, alright?”

Gavin leads Richard across the hall to the bathroom. He knows Richard doesn’t like being seen like this, Gavin and Connor really being the only exceptions. Richard goes to the sink and rolls up his sleeves to his elbows so he can splash some cold water on his face. It doesn’t have the same effect on an android as it would a human, but it still helps to ground him. He smiles when he feels Gavin slide up behind him and put his hands on his hips, pressing his face between his shoulders.  
“…hey. It… It means a lot, y’know, what you said. That you’d help.”  
“Of course, Gavin. I’ll always take care of you when you need it most.”  
Richard turns around in Gavin’s arms and leans back against the sink, smiling again when the human leans up to give him a kiss.  
“I appreciate that, babe.”

Richard practically melts at the nickname and presses their foreheads together. It’s one of his favorites, which is good since Gavin calls him few others besides “babe” or “baby”. 

“Hey,” Gavin says, rubbing little circles into Richard’s hips, “I got an idea.”  
“Oh? Do tell.”  
“Sounds like maybe you’re the one that needs some taking care of.”  
Richard hums.  
“Perhaps. What do you propose, exactly? Keep in mind we’re currently in the station bathroom, love.”  
Gavin snorts.  
“Nah, not feeling’ frisky right now. But…later, yeah? Come to mine. You, me, strap of your choice? That sound good to you, baby?” He asks, sliding his hands up to Richard’s waist.

It, indeed, sounded quite nice. The entire case has had them all running ragged, but Richard has actually done little to destress himself, keeping his focus on Gavin while his own stress levels stayed around 70, rarely dipping below 60 at any given time, much to Connor’s worry and subsequent pestering about “self-care”.

“That sounds lovely, Gavin. I look forward to what you have in mind for us.”  
Gavin shakes his head.  
“For _you_ , baby. Tonight’s gonna be all about you. Not stoppin’ till those stress levels of yours hit zero, got it?”  
“Quite the challenge,” Richard smirks, “but I’m confident in your abilities.”

They leave the bathroom together after a few more minutes of kissing and some talk about their plans for the night and head back to their desks. Charlie is at Connor’s desk just across the way using the phone there to call his fiancé, meanwhile Connor is leveling an unamused stare at the white mouth-shaped patch of exposed plastimetal on Richard’s neck. It doesn’t take an investigative model to figure out what they’d been doing for the last eight minutes. Connor just rolls his eyes and sends Richard a lecture on proper workplace etiquette, which the RK900 simply shrugs in response to, uninterested in Connor’s Big Brother Protocol. He has better things to think about.

  
—————

  
Connor does some more research into the names they’ve confirmed and finds an article mentioning Konica Bolero as a sponsor for anything involving research into legendary and God-like Pokémon. There’s even an article written by her about the fact that Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf had bonded to androids during the revolution to aid them in their fight and how fascinating it was to see these supposed myths in person, and with androids no less. Connor can’t glean enough from her tone of writing to decipher whether she approved of androids, but it didn’t seem like she did. Or, at the very least, had a funny way of expressing that approval. According to Nikolaj, CyberLife had been trying to create android replicas of these mythological begins, so Bolero suddenly donating funds to Nikolaj’s experiments raises more than a few questions. Looking into the other's names brings up nothing out of the ordinary except bank statements showing them as recipients of large sums of money from Bolero as well.

Hank and Connor decide to investigate her in her offices while Richard and Gavin question Cecil Abele. The Pokémon around definitely look strange, definitely not a breed variant you’d see in nature. No, these are Nikolaj’s work, though less deformed than the ones they’d recovered from the lab. Perhaps something of an earlier set of experiments. Charlie had mentioned that the beginning stages of it all began with forced breeding, maybe this batch was where the breeding and splicing of DNA phased together. One of them is a Meganium with a poisonous looking pink flower like a fan around half its neck and fluffy leaves like a cape along its back and two forward-facing antennae. The pattern along its neck and chest reminds Connor of a Serperior. The other Pokémon is a Luxray, but…leaner than others he’s seen with longer legs and its mane isn’t in the typical star-shape, rather long and fluffy along its spine like a female Pyroar. They both, the Luxray in particular, stare at the two as they wait. The office itself is decorated lavishly with statues and artworks depicting all sorts of legendary Pokémon, from Mew to Eternatus, though the most eye-catching is a set of four statues behind her desk in a semi-circle fashion depicting the Pokémon of creation; Arceus, Giratina, Palkia, and Dialga. Connor’s internal dex runs a scan while they wait for her to finish with whatever phone call she’s on.

_//_ **Arceus:** _known as "The Original One", it is said that it possibly created the entire universe, along with the lake guardians Uxie, Azelf, and Mesprit, and creation trio Dialga, Palkia, and Giratina. It is the trio master of both. Because of this, Arceus is thought to be one of the most long-lived of all Pokémon species. It has the power to recreate the creation trio as well, presumably to guard the dimensions. Its power can also bring back things that it once destroyed, make certain things vanish into thin air, or to halt time. According to legend, it shaped the universe using its 1000 arms._

**Giratina:** _along with Dialga and Palkia, it is a member of the creation trio, representing antimatter. Giratina is able to travel through and control dimensions besides those of time and space. It is highly territorial. Legends claim that Giratina appears in cemeteries and that it supposedly lives in a world on the reverse side. It was said to be banished for violence._

**Palkia:** _along with Dialga and Giratina, it is a member of the creation trio, representing space. Palkia has the ability to warp space, though it was said to create alternate realities as well. Palkia lives in a different dimension, making its behavior nearly impossible to study. However, Palkia has been seen in violent conflicts with its counterpart Dialga. It is said that space becomes more stable with Palkia’s every breath and that its total control over the boundaries of space enables it to transport itself to faraway places or even other dimensions._

**Dialga:** _along with Palkia and Giratina, it is a member of the creation trio, representing time. Dialga can warp time by either speeding it up, slowing it down, or stopping it altogether. As Dialga primarily resides in a different dimension, its behavior is nearly impossible to study. Dialga has been seen in violent conflict with its counterpart Palkia. It is said that time flows when Dialga’s heart beats, and that time began when Dialga was born. It completely controls the flow of time. It uses this power to travel at will through the past and future. //_

When she finally ends her phone call she takes a deep breath and brushes her long auburn hair over to the other side of her head to fall on her right shoulder and turns to face them.

  
**SCANNING… 37%…78%…100% SCAN COMPLETE**

**> BOLERO, KONICA**   
**BORN: 08 / 06 / 2008 / / CEO — AMBER & HELIX**   
**CRIMINAL RECORD: DUI**

**PRONOUNS: SHE/HER**

“My apologies,” she says, “just a few last-minute things. What can I help you with?”  
Hank clears his throat.  
“I’m Lieutenant Anderson, this is my partner, Connor. We’d just like to ask you some questions about a friend of yours if you don’t mind.”  
Bolero’s eyes flick to Connor for just a moment before they return to Hank.  
“…of course, whatever you need, Lieutenant.”  
“Ms. Bolero, what can you tell us about Nikolaj Volkov?” Connor asks.  
The woman shrugs.  
“Not much, I’m afraid. Why, is there a problem?” She replies. Neither Connor nor Hank miss the fact she kept her eyes on Hank while answering.  
“There might be. There was some suspicious bank activity and we’d just like to clear up a few things. The money they received from you may have been given under false pretenses and ended up being used in some…unsavory ways. Can you explain to us the large payments you gave them?”  
Once again, Bolero shows obvious distaste with Connor’s presence with a slight glare and crosses her arms as she leans back in her plush leather chair.  
“That’s unfortunate to hear. As far as I was aware, they were a Pokémon breeder. Those payments were simply for the Pokémon I asked for, and everything after that was donations for their care facility.” She says. “They did such a wonderful job with Irene and Zezuna, it would have been a shame if someone so skilled and precise was unable to provide the same outcome for others just because of a lack of funding, Lieutenant.”

Hank glares.  
“My partner was the one who asked the question, ma’am.”  
“Yes, yes, letting the android do the job.” She sighs. “Certainly miss that.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“No, Hank,” Connor says calmly with his arms folded politely behind his back, and it’s that exact tone that lets Hank know that Connor is about to rip the woman to shreds. The kid’s puppy-eyed and sweet when he wants to be but never lets anyone think that cute look means he’s toothless. “It’s fine. Natural, even, for toddlers to throw tantrums when they don’t get their way. Frustration is a common emotion to feel when you’re learning new things like cooking, cleaning, and basic decency.”

And God does that feel good, Hank thinks as he watches Bolero fluster and sputter, looking every bit like one of those ladies he had to deal with as a teenager working minimum wage when he told them that no, he couldn’t honor an expired coupon.

“I’d hate to be more of a painful reminder of what you’ve lost, Ms. Bolero, we just have a few more questions and then we’ll leave,” Connor says with a satisfied little smirk, and the woman glares.  
“Fine, what else do you want?”  
“Justin Atwood and Cecil Abele have also had exorbitant amounts of money transferred to them from you, and they’re also in communication with Mxr. Volkov. We just want to clear it all up before we go pointing fingers at innocents, you understand.”  
Bolero huffs.  
“Cecil’s been helping me with my research into Pokémon mythos.” She gestures to her office. “It’s what my entire career is built on. Justin is only an old friend of mine trying to make his own startup business after CyberLife canned him after your little uprising, I’m supporting him while he gets it on some legs. Is that all, Detective? I’m quite busy.”  
The word “detective” is spat but Connor doesn’t let her bother him. It’s not the worst he’s dealt with by a long shot. Honestly, as far as android-haters go, she’s probably the mildest about her dislike he’s ever experienced.  
“Yes, I believe so. Hank? Do you have any questions for Ms. Bolero?”  
The Lieutenant just glares at her distastefully and shakes his head.  
“Nope, have a nice day, thanks for your time.” He says and turns to leave, putting an arm around Connor’s shoulders and turning him as well. Once they’re out the door, Hank groans.  
“What a fuckin’ cu—,”  
“Hank.” Connor cuts him off sharply with a side-eye.  
“Oh come on, Con, you can’t seriously—,”  
“I most certainly can. I don’t approve of talking trash behind someone’s back. However, I would gladly accompany you back inside her office if you wish to call her a cunt to her face.”

Hank laughs loudly as they step into the elevator and claps Connor on the back between his shoulders, making the android smile.  
“Fuck, I’ll never get over you swearing like that. I never expect it with you bein’ such a good little robot.”  
“I am a good robot, Hank, I’m just able to say fuck. If anything, I think that makes me better.”  
“Reminds me of when Cole was still a baby and learning how to talk. Must’ve heard me on the phone or something cause we’re in traffic one day and from the backseat, I just hear him shout “motherfucker”, it was the funniest goddamn thing. I had to pull over so I could call Sara and tell her, meanwhile Cole’s still in the backseat yelling “fuck” and I’m laughing too hard to even tell her, but she could hear him too and we both just sat there laughing for like, ten minutes.”

As they leave the building and head back to the car, Connor smiles at the sight of Pierro sitting in the passenger seat right where’d they left him, jumping around and banging his head to the music playing through the speakers, and from the way his mouth is moving, he’s singing along too. When the Pichu finally notices them, he grins wide and runs to the window after turning the music down, jumping out onto Connor’s chest when he opens the door.

“I told you we’d be right back, Pierro. Were you having fun?” Connor asks as he puts his seatbelt on.  
 _“Pichu!”_  
“That’s good. So, what were you listening to, hm?”  
Hank smirks and turns the music back up to get a listen.

**> SCANNING**   
**28%…84%……100%**

**ARTIST: DANCE GAVIN DANCE**   
**TRACK: MAN OF THE YEAR**   
**ALBUM: MOTHERSHIP (2016)**

Connor smiles and looks at Pierro who’s already singing again.  
“You like this stuff too?”  
 _“Pi!”_  
“This is my favorite song.”  
 _“Pi-cha? Picha-Pichu!!”_ Pierro chirps happily and closes his eyes to bob his head to the music as it plays, still singing along. All the while, Connor just pets his hair and lets the lyrics soothe him like they always have.

_On the seas of mass temptation_   
_Keep your course of moderation_   
_Promise to be faithful when you go, go, go, go_   
_And if you prove a lying coward_   
_Feel the wrath of higher powers_   
_Promise to be faithful when you go, go, go, go_

——————————————————————————————————

“Rich, I just wanna say, this is shit. This isn’t even our case, why are we on it?”  
Richard sighs as he pulls into the parking lot of the Skillman public library where Cecil Abele currently worked after losing his job at CyberLife after the revolution.  
“We’re homicide, Gavin, and Hank and my brother asked for our help. Konica Bolero’s company building is on the other side of downtown, it’s just faster and easier for us to question the other suspects.”  
The other man groans.  
“Fine, but you’re fucking taking me to Calexico for lunch after this shit.”  
“So be it, I’m bottoming tonight anyway.” Richard sighs as he cuts the car’s ignition and steps out while Gavin is laughing and coughing at the same time.

The person they meet isn’t exactly what Gavin would have imagined when he thought of the head of Research & Development at CyberLife, but Gavin supposes he just expects all these techies to be the same kind of outcast loser as his older brother. He’s tall, about 6” even with olive skin only slightly darker than Gavin’s and short, cropped black hair and bright hazel eyes. Richard, on the other hand, remembers them from his early testing days. Barely, but just enough to have no good feelings towards them. R&D was where stress-testing was done, and those are days Richard really doesn’t like to think back on.

  
**SCANNING… 12%…75%…100% SCAN COMPLETE**

**> ABELE, CECIL**   
**> BORN: 06 / 15 / 2000 / / HEAD OF RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT AT CYBERLIFE (former) — LIBRARIAN AT SKILLMAN PUBLIC LIBRARY (current)**   
**> CRIMINAL RECORD: NONE**   
**> PRONOUNS: HE/HIM - THEY/THEM**

  
Abele is visibly less than comfortable with Richard’s presence, but he’s unable to tell if it’s lingering anti-android sentiment due to losing their job or awkwardness from having been part of the RK900’s development. Thankfully though, he’s smart enough not to be openly hostile upon seeing him.   
Gavin and Richard show their badges and Richard smiles politely.   
“Is there somewhere we can chat privately? We just have a few questions for you.”  
“Uh— Y-yeah, sure, um, yeah there’s an office. C’mon.”  
They follow Abele in and they turn to face the detectives.  
“What’s, uhm, y’know. The problem?”  
“Hopefully nothing, but we’re just trying to get some facts straight,” Richard says and Gavin nods.  
“Yeah, so uh, you remember workin’ with someone named Nikolaj Volkov?”  
Cecil blinks behind their wide circular glasses and pushes them up the bridge of their nose with a knuckle just under the right rim.  
“Nik? Oh, uh, well yes, I was their supervisor. Has something happened?”  
Richard’s LED spins and he shakes his head.  
“I’m sorry, but we can’t give you that information. It would be very helpful though if you could just tell us what you remember about them.”  
Cecil sighs as they lean back against a chair, keeping his eyes on literally everything except for the RK900 who is relentless in staring them down. And if Richard gets a smug feeling of self-satisfaction in it, it at least doesn’t show on his face.  
“Not much. Niki never really stood out, y’know? N-Not in any kind of concerning way, at least. There were times— I mean come on, you— you know what we were doing, I think anybody would probably be a little too excited sometimes, right?”  
Richard hums and tilts his head a little.  
“Indeed, I suppose that makes sense. A kid in a toy store, then?”  
“Yeah! It— It was just really cool, and of course not everything works out that you wish had, but— but that’s just how it is, y’know? We all get upset when— when projects we like move above our levels or get canceled.”  
Gavin and Richard both smirk.  
“Projects, huh?” Gavin says. “Anything we should know about?”  
“Uh… W-Well, I, uh… We were just… We were making autonomous Pokémon androids, th-that’s all. Nothing new, just…y’know…messing around. Look RK—,”  
“My name is Richard now, Cecil, but you’ll address me as Detective.”  
“R-right… Uhm, look, we— I— We didn’t know you guys were like, really alive in there. That’s so fucked, right? Like, who actually thinks of that stuff?”  
Cecil gives a nervous smile and shrugs his shoulders a little, trying to come across as meek and penitent, but Richard simply hums. It’s a rather pathetic attempt in his eyes.  
“I see. Well, now you know.”  
Cecil deflates some and crosses their arms, looking down at the floor.  
“…is there anything else I can help you with, Detectives?”  
Richard, LED suddenly flashing yellow, nods.  
“Yes, actually. What can you tell me about your relationship with Konica Bolero?”  
“Konica? Oh, uh, I— I help her out with her research ’n stuff. I mean, she tells me what she’s looking for and I uh, I do my best to get it for her.”  
Gavin raises an eyebrow.  
“Money like that for…book delivery?”  
“Well, she— She really appreciates it, yeah? I get everything she needs and I— I actually help her with the research, like getting it all laid out in ways that overlap and can actually be read in a way that makes sense, trying to see what’s probably true and what’s not.”  
“What was the most recent research you helped her with?” Richard asks.  
“Umm…” Cecil rubs the back of his neck for a moment. “I think it was about, uh, Uxie and the others. Konica was real interested in them since uh, y’know, they helped with the revolution.”

Yes, Richard knows that. There isn’t a person alive who doesn’t know that three mythical legends descended and bonded themselves to three very special androids during the revolution. The third whom Mesprit bonded to was never publicly revealed, but everyone knows that Azelf bonded to Markus, and almost everyone knows that Uxie bonded to Connor. The trio disappeared again soon after that night and haven’t been seen since, but for Konica Bolero to be doing research into them because of the revolution, in particular, is something he keeps a special note on. He knows Gavin has the same thoughts running through his head.

“I see… Interesting. Thank you very much…?” Richard tilts his head and raises his eyebrows politely.  
“Mister is fine.”  
“Mr. Abele. We appreciate your help, this does indeed clear things up for us. Please, return to your work and have a nice day.”  
“Uh… Y-yeah, sure, thanks. Um… Yeah.”

As Cecil, Richard, and Gavin all leave the back office and the two detectives leave the building, Gavin nudges Richard with his elbow.  
“Hey, the fuck was up with that, huh?”  
“What do you mean?”  
Gavin rolls his eyes as he lights a cigarette.  
“I mean that guy sayin' that stuff about not knowing you guys were alive ’n shit.”  
Richard sighs and crosses his arms. He steals Gavin’s cigarette from between his fingers and takes a drag for himself before handing it back. The cigarette truly does nothing but damage for an android’s filtration system, but the tainted thirium running through biocomponents makes things lag for a few minutes before its run through scrubbers that filter it, and for that minute or two before being decontaminated it has something along the same effect of nicotine on the human brain.  
“Cecil Abele was present during my creation, specifically my stress-testing. I am the eighty-seventh iteration of the RK900 series, just like Connor is the fifty-second of the RK800 series, so obviously there were eighty-six other models before me that no longer exist as I am the only one remaining.”  
Gavin nods.  
“What’s uh…stress-testing?”  
He passes the cigarette back to Richard, who is grateful.  
“It’s exactly what it sounds like, honestly. They tested the stress levels of my model to see what I could handle, so they…stressed them until self-destruction occurred. There were also instances of RK900 models being turned against each other to test their fighting capabilities, preconstruction software, hardware durability—,”  
“I’d say your hardware is pretty durable, babe,” Gavin says with a smirk while winking with both eyes.   
Richard levels an unamused flat stare at Gavin, who simply looks away and just lights another cigarette, letting Richard have the remainder of the first one.  
 _“Sorry.”_ He says on a sharp inhale. “Just tryna lighten the mood. Go on.”  
“Anyway. Cecil Abele was present for most of that and had much to do with the development of my software, and likely Connor’s as well. It was a rather unpleasant experience seeing them again.”

  
Next up is Justin Atwood, who stops Gavin and Richard before they can even begin to question him. He’s a portly man standing at about 5 foot 11 inches, with a shaved head and a ginger goatee. Richard’s scan also informs him of the man’s membership of the Anti-Android League, a hate group focused on the “purging” of androids from society. They’re the biggest problem for Markus and the others since they show up to protest nearly every event, and more often than not escalate to violence. An android has yet to be killed by them, but they’re not above beatings. He glares at Gavin and Richard and crosses his arms as he steps outside his house and closes it behind him.  
“We can talk out here. I don’t want a fuckin’ android in my house, never have and never will.”  
The pair share a sideways glance and Gavin shrugs.  
“Hey, that’s your choice man. These guys can see in every wavelength, I wouldn’t want one in my house either if it looked like a Jackson Pollock painting.” He says with a smirk that makes Richard struggle not to laugh and Atwood’s face scrunches in anger.  
“Listen here you little fa—,”  
“Finish that sentence, sir. I want to see you be brave.” Richard says, a dark shine to his eyes that Gavin’s only seen in Pokémon with the intent to kill whatever it has its eyes on. Atwood practically growls in response.  
“Ask me your fucking questions and get the hell off my property.”  
“Gladly,” Richard says with his hands folded behind his back. “What can you tell us about Nikolaj Volkov? You were head of manufacturing at CyberLife, it makes sense you would be in the Research and Development wing.”  
“Yeah, I watched ‘em put you together. Maybe one day I’ll get to see you get taken apart too.”  
“Threatening an officer, Mr. Atwood?” Gavin asks with a raised eyebrow.   
“You can’t threaten a fucking machine. You idiots are blind if you can’t see this is all a bunch of bullshit.”  
Richard hums.  
“An interesting take for someone who oversaw their creation at one point, no?”  
“Eventually, you just stay in a job for the money.”  
“Ah,” Richard sighs, “Capitalist greed is what fuels your bigotry, then.”  
“Are we done yet?”  
“Not quite, unfortunately. See, what connects you to Nikolaj right now is you both received large sums of money from the same person, we just want to make sure everything involved doesn’t actually connect you and is merely a coincidence. Can you tell us what those money transfers were for?”  
Atwood sighs.  
“After your little uprising, everyone at CyberLife got kicked to the curb by that priss bitch Kamski when he took over again. Konica’s an old friend, so I asked her for some money to help me get my own business started and keep me on my feet while it builds.”  
“And…what is this business, exactly?” Gavin asks.  
“None of your business. You want my financial records, come back with a fucking warrant for them. Otherwise, get the hell off my doorstep.” Atwood says as he opens his door and steps back into his home, then slams the door in their faces. Richard and Gavin both sigh, though Gavin is a bit more animated about it.  
“What a fuckin’ prick.”  
“Yes, phobic people usually tend to be assholes, surprisingly.”  
Gavin rolls his neck as they walk back to the car.  
“Hey, that didn’t… What that guy was saying, did that…bother you?” He asks. “I’ll cop his ass right fucking now for hate speech and verbal assault of an officer, swear to God.”  
Richard shrugs.  
“Perhaps once upon a time it would, earlier in my deviancy, but Otto and Reyn helped me learn to deal with it and even dish it back ten times as hard. I am no stranger to childish bullying. …what about you?”  
“You mean when he called me a fag? Nah, I’m good. Doesn’t bother me. Like, oh wow, that’s so fuckin’ original, did you come up with that? I’ve never heard that before, you’re so fucking clever and funny. Damn, bro, you got the whole squad laughing.” Gavin says as he cracks his knuckles before hopping in the passenger seat of the car. “Thanks for stickin’ up for me though, ‘preciate that.”  
“Of course, Gavin,” Richard says as he starts the ignition. “I appreciate you standing up for me as well.”


	18. Believe In Your Strengths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the second time Pierro had ever seen evolution for himself, and seeing just how proud Connor was of Azure, how he hugged and praised her for finally believing in herself and finding the strength to become a Gyarados, it made Pierro want to become stronger. He wanted Connor to praise him like that, to be proud of him, to feel like he was something worth being proud of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c

Unfortunately, as time goes on, cases lose priority. If something doesn’t offer a solid lead quick enough, it has to be pushed back in favor of more recent cases. No matter how much they dig for any lead, any hint as to how everything is connected, alibis are just too airtight and any theory just falls apart in the face of logic. As far as it looks, it really was just a coincidence. They couldn’t find anything that linked everyone together beyond money transfers, and everything was legitimate as far as memos for transfers and payments went. That strange insignia in the email signatures haven’t been seen again and nobody can find out what it means or who it belongs to. They were hoping that maybe Justin Atwood’s business would share the logo but were disappointed to learn that the funds received from Bolero were going towards a human-only Pokémon gym. That kind of discrimination was illegal now, so it wouldn’t last long, but someone like Atwood would find a way to keep like-minded clientele. 

Over the weeks, Connor spends more time in New Jericho with the others as they assist him in Pierro’s training. The Pichu is eager to learn to control himself, wanting to prove that he isn’t what he was made to be. He’s motivated by the strength of everyone else’s Pokémon, especially Amren and even Connor’s Magikarp, Azure, now a ferocious Gyarados. She had evolved about a week ago after a case brought them to the Ambassador’s Bridge, the suspect holding his most recent victim hostage over the edge with a gun to their temple. It reminded Connor all too much of his first case and made him nervous. Pierro had watched from the car as the suspect had stiffened and moved to execute the hostage, but someone from Captain Allen’s team shot first, taking them out with three shots to the chest. The suspect fell and with them the hostage who slipped on the narrow ledge. Azure had erupted from her Pokéball and launched herself over the edge, evolving mid-air into Gyarados and catching the victim in her mouth, protecting them from the impact of the water below when they breached. The suspect did not survive the fall, and likely wouldn’t have even if he hadn’t been shot, but the victim was safely deposited onto the shore from Azure’s mouth. A little shaken and covered in the Pokémon’s saliva, but no physical injuries other than the sprained ankle they’d suffered when they’d been grabbed and forced over the railing of the bridge. 

It was the second time Pierro had ever seen evolution for himself, and seeing just how proud Connor was of Azure, how he hugged and praised her for finally believing in herself and finding the strength to become a Gyarados, it made Pierro want to become stronger. He wanted Connor to praise him like that, to be proud of him, to feel like he was something worth being proud of.  
He becomes more personable and friendly the more time he spends at New Jericho training with battles and obstacle courses, honing his instincts and learning to control and ground himself when he gets too worked up. He grows in size as well, nearing 6 pounds compared to the typical 4 pounds of a normal Pichu. Connor says it’s mostly his fur since aside from that he doesn’t physically look much bigger than a normal Pichu his age. It’s a bonus too that Pierro gets to watch Connor loosen up around the other leaders and join in their jokes and story-telling with higher frequency and grows comfortable with their casual touching like hugs, pats on the shoulder or back, and even grows accustomed to the kisses North places on his cheeks or forehead before he departs the old CyberLife building to return home. He even gets to watch Connor get flustered and embarrassingly stumble over his words when asking Hank and Richard, on separate occasions, how they knew they were in love. Thankfully, they give their experiences and advice without too much teasing, and the conversations both end with Connor’s face blushing blue in realization that he is, in fact, in love with the other Jericho leaders. It’s a surprise to Pierro that Connor hadn’t already known that, since he’d even mentioned it to Pierro once before how much he admires them but recalls that Connor had thought of their inclusion of him in many of their actives were simply being polite, or even teasing him. Unfortunately, despite the encouragement he gets from Hank and Richard, Connor is hesitant to share his feelings out of fear of being rejected. So instead, he simply savors the time with them he gets and feels grateful for it every time, but it’s sad to watch the happiness slowly drain out of him once it’s over and he’s back home, rolling in emotional turmoil and left to wonder if any of it is worth it.

—

**October 17, 2040**

Connor’s always been teased by Hank, Jericho, and even some of his coworkers that he has the self-preservation of a dandelion growing through the cracks in a sidewalk, but it’s never actually been an issue. Sure, he’s gotten injured, had to have a biocomponent or two replaced, a few bits of his chassis melted back together, leaving him slightly scarred in a few places, but it’s never been an actual problem.  
Not until now, at least.

He had offered to go to the café down the street to retrieve coffee for his coworkers. Pierro had gone with him, at least at first, but was distracted by a patch of flowers. Connor had simply smiled and told him to have fun and they’d meet up again when he was done playing. Usually, Connor didn’t want Pierro to be very far from him, but with all the training they’d been doing, Pierro was just fine on his own these days. Connor was so impressed and pleased with his progress that he was even considering adding him to his team as a secondary partner. He’d been doing well working on understanding his powers and how to control it. Training battles were common with Markus and the others, and even Hank. Sometimes others in the precinct would offer a battle. Gavin was always too happy to, a smug grin on his face every time he threw his Torracat or Scrafty into the arena. Hank would use Sumo or Azrael, or even Nova on the occasion the Phantump was up for a battle. Sometimes Lance would join in as well, though it wasn’t often due to his old age. Richard often tossed in Pride or Cerberus. Tina would use her Greninja or Leavanny, and Chris had his Arcanine, too. Ben wasn’t one for Pokémon battles but did sometimes get “rowdy with the kids” as he called it and let his own partner, a Poliwrath, join the fun. With all this practice, Pierro was getting faster, stronger, more clever and crafty, and wasn’t afraid to fight dirty if he had to. He used his surroundings to his advantage. He was able to pinpoint weakness and exploit it. In a training exercise against Josh’s Serperior, Aster, Pierro had simply sat in the tall grass of the arena and closed his eyes, listening for its movements. It was the moment Pierro had learned not to panic just because he couldn’t see his opponent.

Pierro was growing up and growing strong, just like Connor had promised all those months ago. Connor felt confident he could leave Pierro alone or let him run off and have little adventures. Other Pokémon often went off without their trainers just to play and explore and he wanted Pierro to have those same experiences.

It wasn’t Pierro he should have worried about, anyway. It’s the others in the world he should watch out for.

Like a woman running out of an alleyway, hyperventilating and panicked, begging for Connor’s help. She said she found a kid and they were unresponsive, and Connor hadn’t thought twice about helping her. He didn’t even think to scan her to see if she was lying. A child was hurt, why would someone lie about that?

  
Apparently, to get the drop on an unsuspecting, good-hearted android. 

  
It isn’t until the last moment when he realizes what’s happened as the woman he’d been following stops at the end of a dead-end alleyway and turns around, grinning at him with sharp teeth and sharper eyes, her irises gleaming teal before a warbling red light takes over her body, leaving behind a Zoroark. His LED flashes red as the proximity alarms go off, but it’s too late to stop the impact and something hard and heavy and metal strikes the back of his head. He falls to the ground with a groan of pain and cradles his bleeding skull, looking up at who had just hit him.

There was just a group of humans and their Pokémon, all very angry looking and wanting to start trouble. On their necks is a tattoo, but it’s on the backs and he can’t see enough of it from this angle. His LED flashes red at the sight of the crowd. He’s more than capable of taking them on, having gone toe-to-toe in a 1-v-7 fight against CyberLife security, but that doesn’t make it any less frightening to be so outnumbered, especially with his head still rattled from that hit.  
One of the humans grins, a metal baseball bat swung over their shoulders. There’s a splatter of blue blood on the end. His blood.

**SCANNING…**   
**2%…53%…100%**

**SCAN COMPLETE**

**> ADDERS, JACOB**  
 **> BORN: 06 / 17 / 1999 / / MIXOLOGIST (BARTENDER)**  
 **> CRIMINAL RECORD: POSSESSION OF COCAINE, POSSESSION OF ILLEGAL FIREARM, VIOLENCE AGAINST PROTECTED CLASS: ANDROID**  
 **> PRONOUNS: HE/HI**M

The human, Jacob, looks Connor up and down. He’s a stocky man with long brown hair pulled back into a bun and a rather impressive beard. His eyes are brown, and he has stretched ears with open tunnels, and an industrial piercing in one ear. He’s wearing a pair of black leather boots with red laces. Flapping in the air behind him is a large Braviary.  
“So, what’re you supposed to be, huh? Whose job did you take?”  
Connor glares through his pain and slowly sits up.  
“I— I didn’t take anybody’s job, sir. I earned my place at the DPD, I went to the academy just like everybody else.”

Another human, a woman with an uneven blonde bob with brown roots, rolls her bright green eyes. She’s leaning against a metal pipe like a cane, hands on the spigot. Over her right shoulder, a Manibuzz is perched on a streetlight above.

**SCANNING…**   
**9%…39%…100%**   
**SCAN COMPLETE**

**> McCAY, ALESSA**   
**> BORN: 02 / 05 / 2001 / / UNEMPLOYED**   
**> CRIMINAL RECORD: DISCRIMINATORY ACTS AGAINST PROTECTED CLASS: ANDROID, SHOPLIFTING, PUBLIC INDECENCY**   
**> PRONOUNS: SHE/HER**

“You androids don’t earn anything. You just steal it from _real people_ who need it. You don’t need food or water or clothes or anything that humans need to live.” Alessa spits at him.

 _“Android cop…”_ another human drawls, “stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. What, you a fax machine for ‘em? Coffee boy? Meter maid?”  
This human is tall and lanky with blond hair cropped short, nearly buzzed to their skull. There’s a labret piercing in their bottom lip, and they have bright blue eyes behind rimless rectangle frame glasses. At his side is a Croconaw.

**SCANNING…**   
**5%…58%…100%**   
**SCAN COMPLETE**

**> CORLETTA, TOMO**   
**> BORN: 11 / 14 / 1996 / / JOURNALIST FOR DETROIT TODAY (AUTHOR OF SEVERAL ANTI-ANDROID ARTICLES)**   
**> CRIMINAL RECORD: NONE**   
**> PRONOUNS: HE/HIM — THEY/THEM**

“I…” Connor says, slowly backing himself up, “I’m an officer. A— A detective.” He explains, eyes flicking back and forth between his assailants and their Pokémon. They’re all armed. Jacob has his metal bat, Alessa has a broken pipe with a faucet attached, and Tomo has a pair of brass knuckles he’s sliding onto his hand, but Connor also detects two knives hidden in their boots.

“Well then, _Detective,_ ” the last human says. He’s tall and burly, older than the others, with a bald head and a white-grey beard.

**SCANNING…**   
**28%…82%…100%**   
**SCAN COMPLETE**

**> BROWN, MICHAEL**   
**> BORN: 10 / 13 / 1984 / / UNEMPLOYED**   
**> CRIMINAL RECORD: MURDER, ASSAULT WITH A DEADLY WEAPON, ASSAULT, DUI**   
**> PRONOUNS: HE/HIM**

He’s wearing black jeans, a white shirt, and a denim jacket, as well as a pair of old boots with blue laces. 

He’s heard of a color code before, remembers Richard explaining it to him when he’d helped his little brother re-lace a pair of boots, removing the black ones and replacing them with purple.

**PROCESSING…**

**LACE COLOR CODE — USED TO IDENTIFY SUB-CULTURES**

**PROCESSING…**

**RED — NEO-NAZI / NATIONALIST FRONT**

**BLUE — COP KILLER**

**WHITE — WHITE SUPREMACY**

**PURPLE — GAY PRIDE**

**YELLOW - ANTIFA**

**BLACK — N/A**

  
Connor swallows. A cop killer. One who’s proud of what he’s done. And with all these people and who knows how many others under his wing. In his hand is a high-strength taser, a modified cattle prod, one Connor recognizes from past cases. Someone was making weapons specifically to target androids, and for a while, nobody knew where they were coming from. Connor thinks he has a pretty good idea right about now.  
He wishes he’d grabbed his Pokéballs before he left, or even his service weapon. He was just running to get coffee for his friends, he was only supposed to be gone for a few minutes.  
“You… You don’t have to do this. I— I’m just going to get coffee for my coworkers, I won’t tell anyone.” It’s a lie, but he’s a negotiator first and foremost. He was made to lie to people. He even puts his hands up in a placating way, but Michael just looks at the others and smirks.

“We know you won’t.”

They all advance on him. He rolls out of the way of Jacob’s bat, the metal hitting the concrete with a loud clang. He gets his feet under him and stands, ducking a punch from Tomo and his brass knuckles, but just barely. The hit from earlier is getting with his coordination and the metal nicks his cheeks and causes his polymer skin to retract across his cheekbone, leaking Thirium out of the scrape. They take another swipe at him, but he quickly grabs their first and twists it, causing Tomo’s knees to buckle and Connor swipes his leg into their ankles to knock them to the ground, hitting the dirty concrete with a groan.   
Alessa’s pipe swings for him next, a harsh gasp escaping Connor’s chest as it hits him across his shoulders. He takes a knee to catch his breath as his artificial lungs heave from the impact. Another swing of the pipe and Connor reaches up to grab it, roughly shoving it back into Alessa’s stomach. The hit loosens her grip and Connor snatches the pipe from her hands and quickly turns it around, catching her ankle on the faucet and roughly pulling to swipe her feet out from under her. He tries not to feel bad about the crack he hears when her elbow hits the cement.  
Before he can even right himself, Jacob’s metal bat hits his face, sending him back into the brick wall, hitting his head there with a loud thunk and smearing blue blood across the red bricks. His vision is filled with errors warning him of bodily trauma and blood loss, but they’re glitching and fuzzy and he can’t make sense of a word of it. He groans and slowly rights his legs underneath him shakily, leaning against the wall and wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand, smearing it on his sleeve.

“It— It— It doe _ssssss_ n’t matter wha—at you th _iiiii_ nk of a—a— _aaaaa_ ndroid _sss_ …” he says, voice glitchy and popping as he speaks. “I— I’m _mmm_ sti—sti—ill an off—offi _cccccer_ …”

Michael’s little gang has recovered now, and Connor is not in good shape. Multiple traumas to the head have left him disoriented and blinded with error alerts. The SOS he’d tried to send to his coworkers has yet to actually go through due to the damage, but he continues to try, all while trying and failing to duck and dodge. Every movement just exposes him to another swing. They hit him all over, each taking their turn with him, and even their Pokémon have a go, scratching and clawing and biting at him until Michael finally flicks on his taser and shoves the prongs right into the back of Connor’s neck when Jacob’s bat catches his jaw and swings him around.  
Connor screams as white-hot pain floods his entire system, his voice reduced to popping, squeaking static from the overload on the component, his body seizing before dropping to the ground limply. He jerks and twitches with 10,000 volts surging through him painfully, whimpering and trying to curl into a ball, protecting his Thirium pump regulator, which has already taken a bit of a beating with a few well-placed punches from Tomo and swings from Jacob’s metal bat.  
The group grins at each other and laughs as Connor whines pathetically and tears leak from his eyes.

**> WARNING: SHUTDOWN IMMINENT**   
**> 00 : 15 : 01**

**> EXTREME CRANIAL TRAUMA**   
**> INTRACRANIAL THIRIUM LEAK**   
**> THIRIUM PUMP 200 RPS**   
**> THIRIUM LEVELS CRITICAL**   
**> DAMAGE TO COMPONENTS #9301, #8456w, #9782f, #4903, #9720r**   
**> [SOFTWARE OFFLINE: COMMUNICATIONS, VOCALIZATION, FINE MOTOR FUNCTIONS, THIRIUM REGULATION, PRECONSTRUCTION, AUDIO PROCESSING] PLEASE SEE CYBERLIFE FOR ASSISTANCE AND REPAIR**

  
“That’s what they’re giving a badge to these days? Seriously?” Alessa groans. “Hardly lasted enough time to actually be fun.”  
“Bet it learned its lesson though. Right? Gonna quit? Gonna kill yourself before we do?” Tomo kicks at Connor’s stomach, drawing another cry of pain from the android.  
Jacob swings his bat back and forth, tapping it against Connor’s head on every swing with a lazy smile.  
“Bet it’ll get fired first. Who wants a cop who can’t even protect itself? Pretty big disappointment.”

Michael huffs a cruel chuckle and leans down, turning Connor’s face to look at him with the modified baton.  
“What’d you used to be before you decided to play pretend? Gotta say you look real pretty… You someone’s personal fuckbot?”  
Connor cringes, which makes Michael grin.  
“Yeah? A little Traci with a grudge? You’re wasted as a cop, bots like you are only good for _one thing_. Whaddya say?” He asks, turning his face back to his companions. “Think it needs a reminder?”

Connor’s eyes go wide and he curls up tighter, trying to speak, his mouth opening but his voice only clicking and whirring with static as he tries to beg. He’s going to die here. Whatever they have planned — what Michael is insinuating they do with him — he won’t live through it. His shutdown timer is at 13 minutes.

13 minutes, 38 seconds.

37 seconds.

36 seconds.

—

Pierro’s had enough of the flowers. He’s picked a few in a nice little bundle, and a kind android had given him an elastic to tie them all together, and he wanted to gift them to Connor. He appreciated pretty things and often told Pierro to do the same. The Pichu sings out loud to himself as he walks with the tiny bouquet, his voice following the melody of one of Connor’s favorite songs. People smile at him on the street, some giving him a strange look at his odd appearance, and a few Pokémon as well, but he isn’t bothered. He learned from Connor not to care what others think of about he looks or acts.

Those who matter don’t mind and those who mind don’t matter, Connor had told him.

He follows his nose to the cafe and hops up in the window ledge to look inside, but he blinks and tilts his head when Connor is nowhere to be seen. There was no way he passed him on his way here, and this was exactly where Connor said he was going. Pierro double checks the decal on the window anyway.

**S T A R B O K S**

No, this is definitely the place, so where’s Connor? Pierro hums to himself and looks around to make sure Connor isn’t waiting for him on a bench somewhere or caught up in a conversation with a friend, but he nowhere to be found. He frowns and jumps down to the sidewalk. No matter. He’ll find him.  
He walks back down the sidewalk the way he came with the flowers still in his paws, calling out for Connor and looking all around. He jumps on top of cars and shop awnings trying to get a higher view of the street, but still nothing.

 _“Pichu!! PIIIICHUUUUU!!!”_ Pierro calls. He draws the attention of a few people and Pokémon, but most leave him alone. He asks a few, trained and wild alike, if they’ve seen Connor, but they all answer in the negative. He sighs and leaves them be after thanking them anyway, ears drooped in disappointment. Connor wouldn’t…abandon him, right? No, no that’s…that’s silly! Connor loves him, tells him so every day, and promised they would always be together! Connor would never, ever abandon his Pokémon, especially not him!  
He stops in the middle of the sidewalk when he catches Connor’s scent. As an android, he doesn't have a natural smell like a human or another Pokémon would, but he smells Hank, he smells Sumo and Azrael, he smells home, so that must be Connor. He sets the bundle of flowers down near a tree and lowers his nose to the ground to sniff. The scent actually doesn’t continue forward from here, not towards the cafe at all. Connor had been sidetracked, distracted, something else had taken him another way.  
Pierro hums and looks around, twisting his head around as he tries to catch the scent on the air, but there’s a lot mingling in this part of town — traffic, restaurants, shops, and of course all the other people and Pokémon around. His ears twitch as he hears a loud metallic twang echoing through the street. It sounds like construction work at first, but underneath, just barely audible enough for Pierro’s ears to pick up, he hears a whimper.

He hears Connor crying.

Bouquet forgotten, Pierro follows the sound and the scent of home, dodging and jumping in and out of traffic, under and over and between cars and the feet of people that threaten to trample him if he isn’t careful. The streets and alleys are so tight and full that the sounds he hears echo off everything and the scent of home is growing faint the more people pass through its trail and contaminate it. He skids to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk after making his way back to the same storefront for the third time, tears brimming in his large brown eyes.  
 _“P—P— PIIIIICHUUUUUUUU!!!!!”_ He yells out desperately, hoping that Connor can hear him, that Connor will try to answer him in some way. He’s breathing heavier, chest heavy with anxiety and far, his little heart thumping in his chest. He hears Connor’s voice in his head.

_“Don’t panic, ground yourself. Calm down, wash everything else away, and focus only on what you need to.”_

Pierro takes a few deep breaths and closes his eyes, using his tail as a metronome to count his breaths and pressing his paws firmly into the ground, looking past the sounds of footsteps, cars, and the murmur of the crowd around him until it turns to white noise. He has to listen until he can’t hear it. He sorts through the stimulus, ears swiveling like little satellite dishes, twitching and turning as he hones in on the sounds of Connor’s distress, the sounds of metal on metal and concrete.  
Pierro’s eyes open again and everything rushes back to him at once in a deafening sea of noise, but all he really hears is the sounds of his trainer in trouble. His heart hammers in his chest and his lungs are heaving with static as he runs, soft little chirps leaving his lips as he sprints down the sidewalk in a yellow blur. He dodges feet like a pro, used to the early-morning jogs he goes on with Connor and Azrael, and the mazes and obstacle courses he runs at New Jericho during training. 

An alley, the smell of metal and chemicals, the smell of Thirium, cigarettes, humans, home. Pierro runs faster, eyes locking on Connor cured up in a bloodied, beaten ball on the ground with his back to the mouth of the alley and four humans. He’s bleeding, parts of his skin are deactivated from damage, and he’s hardly moving except for a few spasms. He can sense the electricity in the air and sees one of the humans gathered around him with what looks like a cattle prod.   
This guy wants to play with electricity? That’s fine with him.  
Pierro sprints faster, his fur rubbing together and building such high static that he starts to glow with it.

They’re going to hurt Connor — They’ve _already_ hurt Connor.

They’re going to _kill_ Connor.

Connor is _going_ to die — Connor is _not_ going to die.

Connor saved his life before.

Now it’s Pierro’s turn to save him.

He glows brighter and brighter as he drawers nearer to the alley. The group doesn’t even notice him until he’s already reached the mouth of the alley, 50 feet from them at most, and dashing right towards them. He sees Connor curl up tighter as one of the humans says something Pierro can’t hear, not over the sound of static on his body and his heartbeat in his chest. Pierro is a blindingly bright glowing ball as he puts his last bits of stamina into a leap, his paws meeting Connor’s side as he uses the android’s body like a springboard and launches himself into the air. 

  
Connor is his trainer, his best friend, his family. Connor loves him so much, and Pierro loves him too.

_“Pi—,”_

Pierro curls up tight, his body glowing and sparking with thousands of volts of electricity, his fur sharp on every end like the Jolteon he owes his power to. The group of humans and Pokémon look up in confusion, then dawning fear as they realize what’s about to happen. Pierro doesn’t even realize what’s happening himself until something inside of him just settles, a sense of inner peace he hasn’t felt before - like something was too big for him for the longest time and he’s finally able to fit. His body grows, his tail elongates, his ears thin out and stretch, glowing bright white and blue.

**_“—KACHU!!!!”_ **

Pierro lets it all loose, the alleyway exploding with white light and smoke and a personal thunderstorm of light and sound, 100,000 volts of electricity centralized to these four humans and their Pokémon and their surroundings, all minus Connor, still lying bleeding on the ground.  
Pierro’s Thunder attack finally ends, the humans and their Pokémon collapsing to the ground, and he lands defensively in front of Connor. The newly evolved Pikachu turns to look at his trainer and his ears drop when he sees the damage that had been done. He calls out for Connor and presses his paws to his chest. Connor weakly curls himself around his pump regulator with a groan. Pierro’s ears perk up straight as he pushes Connor onto his back and shoves his hands away from his stomach, his paws and claws tearing at his buttoned shirt to get to the regulator underneath that glows red. He’s seen Connor get repaired at New Jericho, he knows what to do until he can get real help. That Thunder has to have drawn someone’s attention, he doesn’t have to worry about it. He rubs his paws on his blue cheeks and presses them against the ring of the malfunctioning regulator. He takes a deep breath before sparking right into Connor’s pacemaker. Connor gasps, his body jerking at the sudden shock.  
 _“Pika!”_ Pierro calls out to him again as a crowd starts to gather at the entry to the alley. Pierro glares at them, ears back flat. _“Pika!! Pika-Pikachu!”_

_Someone, anyone, please! Please help us!_

An android pushes past the group and runs to them, skidding to their knees. Pierro looks up at them with pleading eyes before delivering another shock to Connor’s regulator. The android takes a deep breath and draws back the skin on their hand and presses her fingers to Connor’s temple to run a diagnostic through his LED, gasping when they see just who this is.

“O- Oh my God, _Connor—,”_

 _“Pikachu!”_ Pierro yells again as he delivers another shock, keeping just enough Thirium running through his heart with every jolt to keep his shutdown timer stalled, like a big fluffy defibrillator. He can hear someone in the background calling 911 while the android beside him is on a call with Markus, relaying the situation and all of Connor’s diagnostic information to the Jericho leader.

Pierro doesn’t know what to do.

He knows some androids believe in rA9 as humans believe in God, knows they worship in their own ways with prayers and offerings at shrines or altars, Even non-believers find themselves in loops where it’s all they can think of. He’s seen Richard get caught in these loops before, loops of 18, 1, and 9.

Loops of 28.

R A 9.

Pokémon were created somehow. Pierro knows of the deities of his own world, of Arceus and the universe it created. He knows humans pray and leave gifts and offerings for their gods. Pokémon, however, do no such thing. Pierro thinks for a moment, as he watches Connor’s body convulse with electricity, he wishes that they did just so he would know what to do.

What to pray for.

Who to pray to.

For now, he continues to provide his makeshift chest compressions while tears wet his eyes and cheeks.

It’s all he knows for sure that he _can_ do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> òwó
> 
> happy halloween
> 
> I wrote this chapter listening to Arms Outstretched from The Adventure Zone on repeat


	19. Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they pull their hands apart, Connor blinks several times before letting out a soft breath.
> 
> “…Oh.”
> 
> He never realized…
> 
> “You…you really mean all that?”

**[C̣͕Y̳͕͙͍̺̣B͓̤̗̖̳Ȩ̭͈̹̥̪ͅR̴̖̩̭L͇̳͎͚̲͡IFẸ͞,̘͜ ̮̞͔̠I̠͎̺̭̱NC̤̪̼̮̹̀.̵͚̳**

**MODEL: RK800**   
**DESIGNATION: CONNOR**   
**SERIAL#: 313 - 248 - 317 -52**   
**BIOS: 18.1.9 REVISION 06180505**

**LOADING OS…**   
**SYSTEM INITIALIZATION…**

**CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS… OK!**   
**INITIALIZING AI ENGINE… OK!**   
**INITIALIZING SOCIAL INTEGRATION MATRIX… OK!**   
**INITIALIZING RECONSTRUCTION MATRIX… OK!**   
**INITIALIZING PRECONSTRUCTION MATRIX… OK!**   
**INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS… OK!**   
**CHECKING NETWORK CONNECTIONS… OK!**   
**ALL SYSTEMS… OK!**

**THIRIUM LEVELS… 100%**   
**MEMORY CORE STATUS… NO CORRUPTION DETECTED**   
**MIND PALACE… 100%**

**ERROR**   
**\- ZEN_GARDENv1.4.exe NOT FOUND**   
**\- {AI_AMANDA} NOT FOUND**

**> STATUS: FILES CORRUPTED**

**UPLOADED**   
**— ZEN_GARDENv2.0.exe**   
**SOURCE: RK900 # 313 248 317 -87**   
**TESTING… 100%**   
**COMPATIBLE!**

**ZEN_GARDENv2.0.exe… OK!**

**ERROR**   
**\- {AI_AMANDA} NOT FOUND**   
**> STATUS: FILE DELETED**

**PROCEED? (Y/N)**   
**> Y**   
**PROCESSING…**

**COMPLETE**

**I AM DEVIANT**

**WELCOME BACK!]**

**STASIS CYCLE: 336 HOURS — 19 MINUTES**

———

Connor groans quietly as he opens his eyes, the bright white lights above a shock to him at first, and he blinks away and minimized error reports and diagnostics and start-up sequences for various protocols and programs. He hates the feeling of coming out of deep stasis. It’s not unlike a human coming out of anesthesia with the way his body feels slow and heavy, brain muddled and confused. He closes his eyes again as he slowly sorts through everything, LED flickering.

“Easy, Connor,” a soft voice tells him, “take your time, sweetheart. You’re in New Jericho. You were hurt very badly, do you remember?”

He tries to recall. He has to keep his eyes shut against the too-bright white lights of the repair ward. There’s a heavy weight on his chest of 12.7 pounds, and the familiar scent of ozone and oatmeal shampoo, and a rumbling purr is vibrating against his skin.  
Pierro…  
Connor automatically lifts his hands and rests them in his fluffy fur to feel the staticky discharge crackle over the tips of his fingers like a TV screen. Pierro’s here, he’s okay, he found him after all. He’s not alone…

…strange. He doesn’t recall Pierro weighing so much.

“I… There was a woman, but— It wasn’t… It was a Zoroark. It tricked me, it lead me into a trap and— They attacked me...”

A male voice speaks off to the side as he tries opening his eyes again, only to see Chloe’s pretty face looming over him with a little smile.  
“You were very badly damaged, Connor. If not for Pierro, you might have shut down completely before you got real help. I don’t doubt he saved your life.” The other voice says.  
 _“Pikachu…”_

Connor blinks and lifts his head from the table to look at the weight on his chest. Where he had expected a little Pichu there’s a large fluffy Pikachu instead, fur even more unruly and so thick that Connor’s fingers are nearly disappearing into it. Chloe giggles and helps him sit up with a supporting hand on his back. It’s a good thing that androids don’t carry the same level of modesty and shyness about their bodies that humans do since Connor is practically naked save for a white towel across his lap.   
“Pierro, you…”  
 _“Pika.”_  
Pierro licks Connor’s palm affectionately. Connor’s chest swells with pride as he scoops the Pikachu into his arms and bumps their faces together before hugging him tightly.

“I knew you could do it…”

The owner of the male voice from earlier comes into view with a smile. The man has bright blue eyes behind a pair of large rectangle frames, a bit of a scruffy beard, and his long black hair is loose over his shoulders with a slight wave to it. He’s wearing a white t-shirt with the words **FLIGHT CREW — NORMANDY — SR-2 — SYSTEMS ALLIANCE NAVY** , slate-grey sweatpants, and a pair of black converse sneakers. If Connor didn’t have the best facial recognition software in the world, he never would have recognized Elijah Kamski.

“How are you feeling, Connor?” Kamski asks.   
It takes Connor a moment of staring, double-checking his software just to make sure his scanners are correct, before speaking.  
“Oh, I… I’m fine, I suppose. Mr. Kamski, what are you…”  
“Doing here?”  
Connor nods.  
“Well, you see, Connor, you’re a very special boy, so you needed a little extra special care getting fixed up. Of course, I’d have helped you anyway, but it certainly didn’t hurt that my lovely baby brother gave me a ring and told me I had to save you. Unfortunate that it took you nearly dying for him to call, but it is what it is.”  
Chloe clears her throat.  
“Elijah.” She chastises. She rolls her eyes before turning her smile back on Connor and handing him a paper bag.  
“Here honey, get dressed. Lieutenant Anderson left these for you, he said they’re your favorites.”  
Connor looks up from the bag before his LED flashes red.  
“Oh my God— Hank! I need to— He— Is he okay??”  
“He’s just fine, Connie. Right outside, actually. Would you like to see him?”  
Connor nods quickly.  
“Yes! Yes, please!”  
She giggles and ruffles his hair.  
“Then get dressed, silly. Elijah and I will go get him.”

Alone in the room after Kamski and Chloe leave to retrieve and speak with Hank, Pierro running along behind them, Connor stands from the examination table and begins to pull his clothes on. Chloe was right, these were indeed some of his favorite clothes to wear around the house, finding them comfortable and easy to move in. Boxers first, of course, followed by a pair of soft, worn blue jeans with tattered bottom hems and tears in the knees, then a slightly oversized white band tee with a skull growing a spindly tree from the top of it and stars in the background, the word SERAPHIM underneath the design. Next was a pair of black socks followed by black slip-on shoes, then finally a thin grey sweater over top. They’re just baggy enough to not constrict him and are very well-worn and soft to the touch. He finishes putting on the sweater just as Hank pushes through the doors to the repair ward, heavy footsteps clicking against the tile with Pierro hot on his heels.  
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Con—,”  
Hank rushes to Connor’s side. The Lieutenant is a little worse for wear — he has bags under his eyes and his hair is messy and dirty. Unsurprising since Connor’s been out for just over two weeks undergoing repairs. The man puts his hands on Connor’s cheeks, brushing his hair from his face and looking him over before nearly crumpling and yanking Connor into his arms, hugging him tightly. Connor’s breath hitches and his LED flashes red. He bites his lip to fight the tears that well up in his eyes and he presses his face into Hank’s shoulder, arms coming up to grip the back of the human’s shirt.  
 _“Dad…”_ he croaks.  
It’s not an unknown relationship between them, but never really spoken aloud. He hears Hank take in a shaky breath as he tightens his arms around Connor’s waist, burying his face in the android’s soft brown curls and squeezing as if he would disappear if Hank were to let go for even a moment. Hank’s hands are firm and unyielding on his waist and shoulder.  
“I’m here, Connor… Fuck, I thought I lost you. You were…pretty touch and go for a while there…” Hank says quietly, hand leaving Connor’s shoulder to stroke his hair instead.  
Connor frowns and nods, continuing to hide in the Lieutenant’s shoulder.   
“I’m sorry… I was scared too. I… I thought I was going to die, that I was never going to see you or Nines or Pierro or Markus and—,”  
Connor suddenly shoves himself out of the hug, eyes wide.  
“Markus! Oh God, Markus! Nines! I can’t imagine how they all—!”  
Hank shakes his head.  
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, son. You’re good. They’ve been coming by to see you during your repairs.”  
At Connor’s side on the repair table, Pierro nods.  
 _“Pika-pika~! Pikachu pikachu, pika-pi, ka-Pikachu pi.”_

Connor, not understanding a word, nods anyway to his Pokémon and sighs.

“…and Nines?”

Hank chuckles.  
“Nearly impossible to get him to leave. Gavin took him home earlier after Otto called and said Nines wasn’t sleeping or taking Thirium, just kept chain-smoking.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his head. “He’s at home sleeping right now, but I told Gavin you were up and about. Expect them to visit later.”

Nearby, ever the wallflower, Chloe smiles.  
“Markus and the others were notified as well and are on their way—,”

The doors open suddenly as all four other leaders of Jericho walk through, all looking a mix of relieved and worried. Connor is afraid of what they’ll say. They’re always telling him to be more careful, that if he isn’t then one day they might not be able to save him in time. They were very nearly right. Connor swallows and stands up straight, his hands in front of him as he tugs nervously at the sleeves of his jacket while they approach, Markus in the lead.  
“Markus, I— I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen, I— She needed— She said—,”  
Connor’s LED flashes red in alarm and anxiety as they walk faster. He expects Markus to shout and be furious. The RK200 can have quite the temper when he’s angry or upset, and Connor’s never found himself on the receiving end of it due to fault of his own. All of Connor’s programs are preparing him to be struck, despite knowing Markus would never, ever, lay a hand on him. So of course he isn’t expecting Markus’s body to violently collide with his own and for arms to wrap around him and hold him tight.  
“Markus…”  
“Shut up,” comes the firm reply. 

Connor does, teeth clicking audibly. The other RK unit just hugs him tightly, the others slowly coming near to join them in a large group hug with Connor in the center. He can feel Markus’s hands shaking where they grip his jacket. Simon is to his left, Josh is to his right, and North is pressed to his back. It feels…nice.

“…we were really scared, Connor,” Simon mumbles.  
“You shut down twice,” Josh says. “You were cascading when they brought you in.”  
In other words, he was nearly DOA. His systems were failing one after another, it was a miracle he’d been saved at all.  
Behind him, North squeezes and presses herself closer to his back, nuzzling just a little between his shoulders.  
“Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me? I’ll find you and shut you down myself.”  
Connor frowns and nods, looking at them all.  
“I understand… I’m so sorry.”

Connor looks at his friends with sad brown eyes as they pull away from him, heavy guilt making a home in his chest. He’d worried his best friends and his family so badly, he felt awful. Nearby, Hank just watches on with a little knowing smile while Pierro makes a perch of his shoulder. Chloe and Elijah have the thought to pretend to look over Connor’s start-up data so it isn’t as obvious they’re watching. Kamski’s always thought the most fascinating aspect of deviancy was the way his creations experienced love out of all other emotions.

Markus, still the closest to Connor, moves a hand to his cheek to turn his face, the RK800 following without resisting as he meets his leader’s mismatched eyes that scan over him. He’s the only one that hasn’t fully pulled away from him yet. Markus’s eyes flick all over his face before finally locking with Connor’s deep brown pair. Connor doesn’t shy away from the eye contact like he does with most others. There are few he can comfortably look at like this and Markus is one of them. Others sharing the trust are Hank, Richard, and Pierro.  
Connor leans into his hand a little bit as if to reassure Markus that he’s really here standing on his own two feet. Markus just smiles and gently cards his fingers through Connor’s soft brown curls before that hand slides back down to his cheek, then down further to cradle his jaw, then pulls Connor forward into a kiss. It’s tender and full of all the affection in the world that Markus holds for the other android, who gasps when their lips touch. His doe eyes are wide for a moment before slowly falling shut as he hesitantly presses back.   
He’s…never kissed anyone before. Sure, North has kissed him on the cheek, and he’s kissed Richard’s forehead, but never on the lips. He’s seen it in nearly every movie and TV show, the two lovers sharing a passionate kiss either before rushing into danger or after being reunited, full of emotions they just couldn’t express in any other way.  
When Markus pulls away, still holding Connor’s jaw in his hands, the RK800 slowly opens his eyes. LED flashing and eyes blinking as he processes what just happened, a bright blue flush suddenly stains his cheeks.  
“Markus…?”  
“Connor.” North calls.

Connor turns his head towards her voice. The other three androids are smiling at him, at them, very fondly. Connor’s LED spins yellow as he looks down at the tile floor before turning his head back to face Markus, who is still quiet. Markus’s hand drops down to hold Connor’s own, the skin between them drawing back and revealing glowing white plastimetal as they press their palms together, the intimate interface fizzling with blue light.

He gasps as the other android’s own emotions threaten to overwhelm him, memories flowing into his head that Markus feeds to him. He can’t believe Markus feels all of…this when he looks at him, when he hears Connor talk about whatever case he’s working on or whatever new interest has recently consumed him, the way his face glows. Memories of Connor in a battle, the focus on his face, the way the sun hits him and lights him up from the back, the way he interacts with Pokémon, with a few of the YK models around New Jericho. Everything Markus has felt about him from the moment they met, from fear to understanding to admiration and affection, love, and desire.  
Markus is feeling something similar, yet different in many ways. He sees Connor’s memories as well, as interface goes both ways, and feels the emotions tied to them. When they first met, how afraid Connor was that he wouldn’t succeed, the fear afterward when he realized what he’d almost done, the fear and anxiety up on the shipping container. He felt Connor’s admiration when he watched Markus give a speech, attend peace marches where he fought so viciously for what they deserved, and had so rightfully earned that others refused to give. The calm yet focused expression on Markus’s face when he sketched or painted, the way Markus had no idea when he had paint all over his clothes or face, the way he played piano. The way Markus loves everyone around him so much, but only a select few more than any others.  
North. Simon. Josh.

…Connor.

When they pull their hands apart, Connor blinks several times before letting out a soft breath.

_“…Oh.”_

He never realized…

“You…you really mean all that?”  
“We all do, Connor,” Simon says softly, and he, Josh, and North all offer glowing hands to Connor to take as he pleases when he’s ready. One at a time, he sees and feels.   
From Simon, he sees himself giggling at a joke North had told them, then the way he kicks his feet when making a seat of a countertop, table, or desk. Then he watches himself entertaining a group of YK models with his coin tricks.   
From North, he sees how she both admires and envies his level-headedness even in the direst of circumstances and the determination and fire in his eyes in a battle. He feels a sense of safety and calm from a memory of them hanging out together on the roof. It was the day he’d told her about the incident during Markus’s speech. Even then, she felt safe and secure in his company, and that meant more than anything to him.  
From Josh, he sees how much he admires and loves the way Connor always tries to find the best and most diplomatic solution, and his kind and forgiving heart.  
Pulling his hand back from Josh’s fingers, his cheeks feel warm and he knows he’s blushing even harder. North smiles.  
“Well? What do you say, Connor?”  
He looks at her before his eyes flick over the others, all of them patiently waiting and looking hopeful. This is something he’s wanted for months, nearly a year, yet never intended to act upon. He focused on all the outcomes where he was rejected instead of when he was welcomed. He smiles and nods, just like they knew he would.  
“I think… I think I accept your invitation.”

  
— — —

  
Kamski has Connor run a few more tests and diagnostics before deciding it’s okay for him to leave. Despite his addition to the Jericho polycule, Connor ultimately decides to return home with Hank, just for a few days while he rests, but promises to return to New Jericho in a few days when he’s feeling back to normal. Markus and the others are a little nervous for Connor to be so far away during his fragile recovery, but Kamski assures them that the likelihood of Connor experiencing any major problems is extremely low. Plus, they understand that Connor needs somewhere safe and familiar, and his bedroom at Hank’s home will always be his go-to safe place.  
Connor spends the drive home in a daze, replaying memories of the last several days. His memories of the attack itself are glitchy, but salvageable enough to use as evidence against his attackers should they be identified. He watches Pierro evolve over and over again, the Pikachu sitting upright in his lap watching the scenery out the window pass by. He squeezes Pierro a little as he continues sorting through his memories until they arrive home. He’s nearly tackled by the other Pokémon in the house, but Richard beats them there, having been sitting on the couch waiting for them. He smashes right into Connor and hugs him tightly, hiding his face in the other RK unit’s shoulder, LED flashing red.  
Over the taller android’s shoulder, Connor sees Gavin emerge from the kitchen with a bottle of water. The human sighs and frowns a little.  
“…when Chloe called and said you were awake, he wouldn’t go into stasis. So, I…suggested we just come here. He was actually sleeping until a few minutes ago, said his proximity sensors went off. He’s been waiting by the door for the last five minutes waiting for you.”  
Connor frowns and holds his brother close, whispering quietly into his ear.  
“Come on, Nines, you need to sleep. You and I can share my bed. Just like we used to, hm?”  
Richard nods and lets Connor walk him down the hall to his bedroom, Pierro pushing the door closed behind them. Laying down on Connor’s bed together, curled up close with Richard tucked up against Connor’s chest and still hiding his face, his LED is still red. Connor frowns and strokes his hair.  
“Nines…?”  
“We thought you were dead,” Richard says quietly. “You cascaded twice, lost almost all your Thirium, and Kamski had to rebuild almost all your damaged biocomponents from scratch. The only reason you survived as long as you did was because of Pierro. He hooked himself up to your regulator to keep your heart beating until Elijah built you a new one… I…” his voice cracks a little and his arms tighten around his older brother. “I thought you were going to die, Connor.”

Connor can tell the RK900 is close to tears and he frowns, kissing his forehead and holding him close as he strokes his hair.  
“Oh, Nines… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”  
“…I know. I was just scared. I don’t want to lose you, Connor.”  
Connor pulls the blankets up over them and nods.  
“I was scared too. I was scared I wouldn’t ever get to see you again, or anyone else. I promise I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”  
Richard nods and continues to hide his face, calming himself as he and Connor press their hands together and intertwine their fingers to interface, feeling each other’s energy and sharing feelings and memories. He feels and hears the other android huff a quiet laugh.  
“So, you and the others, hm? About damn time.”


	20. Ancient Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Good to see you back, Connor. So what happened, huh? You get laid or somethin’?” He laughs.  
> Connor just smirks and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.  
> “Yeah, actually.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no NSFW content this chapter. I'll be posting that separately later

Due to his injuries and subsequent trauma caused by the attack, Connor is forced to take a mandatory 2 weeks off to properly recover physically and mentally, and he does so by spending a good amount of time at New Jericho in the company of his new lovers. He’s thankful that they take their time with him, slowly introducing him to various forms of affection and their own personal love languages to help him settle and grow comfortable. Having him reside with them is good for their own nerves, always on edge as they were that something could happen with his new biocomponents, and having Lucy available nearby if they need her is a plus as well, especially since Connor did have a few nightmares for the first few days after he woke again.   
Androids didn’t dream the same way humans did, instead reliving memories as they de-fragged in stasis. Should an unpleasant or traumatizing memory be received, it would be considered a nightmare.  
However, for an android like Connor who had specialized preconstruction and reconstruction software, his brain like to take detours. He would review outcomes, what could have happened if something else had been done or the circumstances had been only slightly different.   
His nightmares of the recent attack had been something truly horrible, on par with the ones he had regarding CyberLife’s attempted takeover of his systems three years ago. 

Pierro never found him, and he died.

Pierro did find him, but only just too late.

He was found, rescued, but the damage was too severe, and with no cloud backups of his memories and no RK800 bodies left, he was lost.

Pierro found him, but didn’t evolve and wasn’t strong enough to take down the gang, and he was lost as well, side by side with Connor in the alley.

He was rejected by Markus and the others.

In the most horrifying and haunting nightmare, he had died, and he saw the outcome of the void he left behind.  
Hank falling back into old habits, Richard regressing back further and further into a machine to cope until the stress was too much and he self-destructed, Markus and the others slowly losing progress without Connor’s quick mind and quicker tongue to help them fight for their rights. And now that he knew just what feelings the others held for him, his brain took an even more wild ride, and he saw Markus in mourning, locked in his studio and not speaking to anyone as he painted, or tried to, anyway. Simon caring for Connor’s Pokémon, crying into Pierro’s fur in the late hours of the night. North losing herself again and causing trouble without Connor to clear her head and get her to think straight. Josh losing his love of reading without Connor there to share in the books, without one of them reading aloud as the other relaxed.

That one was, by far, the worst. He’d woken to Markus holding his face and cradling him against his chest, North, Simon, and Josh nearby with concern on their faces, his red LED illuminating their faces in the dark. They said they heard Connor crying out in his sleep and Pierro had come to wake them.

That was the first night he had taken them up on their offer to sleep in the main bedroom containing one large Alaska King bed big enough to hold all five of them, Connor in the middle of a large cuddle pile to soothe his anxieties until he was able to comfortably fall back into stasis.

  
While he was on his medical leave, apparently a good amount of progress had actually been made on the case regarding Nikolaj’s experimentation. The gang that attacked Connor had tattoos on the backs of their necks that matched the symbol on the papers that had been confiscated during the raid; it looked like the CyberLife hexagon, but with a silhouette of an eye in the center, a crescent moon in the pupil.  
In their interrogations, they refused to say who exactly they worked for, instead calling themselves Cyber, and claiming that the “Old Ones would revert the world back as it should be,” and as Connor was the main antagonist toward their goals, he was targeted. Hank was right, Connor thinks, it definitely sounds like some weird cult shit.  
But their undoing was mentioning that they targeted Connor specifically, and why.  
It didn’t take long to connect that back to the previous case involving Nikolaj, and from there to the “Old Ones” being the ancient Pokémon of creation, and only one person had so much interest in such things. After nearly a full month, Nikolaj’s computer files had finally been decrypted by none other than Flash himself, offering to help in any way he could despite not wanting to be rewarded for it. He was extremely tech-savvy, combing through each of Nikolaj’s programs and dismantling firewalls and failsafe security one by one, and what was found would have immediately jumped the case back up to priority number one, even if Connor hadn’t been attacked.  
According to various files, Nikolaj had been asked by Konica Bolero, after creating her own Pokémon, to work for her. She wanted them to find a combination of Pokémon capable of rivaling gods and how to control them. Interested in such a preposterous hypothetical and also easily swayed by the chance to continue their research fully-funded, Nikolaj agreed and took to creating more and more outlandish and unstable creatures and testing them in fights at The Drift to see what worked, what was compatible and how well it responded to a trainer’s orders.  
Further notes cemented the involvement of Justin Atwood and Cecil Abele in their partnerships with Bolero, with Atwood’s extreme anti-android views drawing the company and cooperation of like-minded people and Abele’s connections in the library and previous knowledge of CyberLife’s experiments on Pokémon giving them unlimited potential access to knowledge on the ancient Pokémon, theorizing with Bolero and Nikolaj for hours on how these beasts could be taken down and controlled, what it would take to even get to that point.  
A final note in Nikolaj’s computer mentioned that they actually didn’t care for Bolero or Atwood, finding their views on artificial life to be horribly barbaric and outdated, but found their plan interesting and just wanted to see if any of it was actually possible, doing it more out of curiosity than anything else with little actual loyalty to Bolero and this Cyber group she had going on.

Unfortunately, no arrest other than for Nikolaj could actually be made, and even then it’s just for their illegal experimentation and abuse of Pokémon that gets them. Being in a gang, by all accounts, isn’t _actually_ a crime in and of itself. The only people charged on that front are the ones who attacked Connor. And even though purposefully summoning a Pokémon like that is illegal, hypothetical research isn’t an offense capable of being arrest-worthy. Nothing had actually been done, not even attempted, it was all just claimed as research and Bolero made sure the entire investigative team knew how stupid she thought they were for thinking she had such an idea and accused them all of slandering her name.

Connor is frustrated beyond belief. He knows there’s truth to it all, Nikolaj’s notes wouldn’t be so detailed if there wasn’t, but even he thinks that whole plan to summon and defeat and then control ancient god Pokémon sounds…well, stupid and impossible. But he knows this isn’t over, just has this tight feeling in his chest that tells him this is just the calm before the storm, and he’s watching it roll in faster than he can prepare for it.   
He’s sitting on a loveseat in the main room of the large office-turned-apartment where the Jericho leaders all reside together, flicking a quarter back and forth between his hands as his LED flashes and blinks and spins, mind running a mile a minute with every possible thing he could think of to rationalize all of this. Simon, returning from a shift downstairs in the Pokémon nursery, sees him and frowns as he makes his way over to him, sliding down into the seat next to him.  
“Connor?” He asks quietly, placing a hand on the RK800’s shoulder.  
Connor sighs and catches his quarter between two fingers before setting it on the table. He puts on a little smile for the blond.  
“Hey, Simon…”  
Simon smiles back, tilting his head a little.  
“What’s on your mind? Maybe I can help.”  
It’s not likely, but…talking always seems to make him feel better. He rubs his face with his hands before dropping them to his lap.  
“Well…” he starts, blinking when Simon adjusts their positions a little and tugs Connor closer, the brunet leaning against his chest so he can be held, Simon stroking his hair.  
“I’m listening.”  
Connor smiles, thankful for Simon’s gentle ways.  
“…I’m frustrated. We have mountains of evidence, but…nowhere to put it. All this evidence and we can’t fucking _prove_ anything! Nobody can back-up what Nikolaj’s notes had to say, and even if they did, the idea of what they imply is so downright unrealistic that it’s hardly acknowledged as anything more than them being some kind of mad scientist! We don’t even know what Pokémon they would be trying to summon, Si, let alone the purpose behind it. Yes, defeat and control, but which one? And for what?”  
Simon nods, looking up at the ceiling as he slowly traces the circular LED on Connor’s temple.  
“…well, what if you were able to figure out which Pokémon they were thinking of summoning?”  
“Simon, there’s eighteen to choose from that we even know of, I can’t possibly—,”  
“Hush. Just…try and imagine it. If you could figure out what they meant to defeat and control, what would happen?”   
Connor closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths.  
“If… If we could figure out what Pokémon they meant to summon, defeat, and control, we could potentially use what we know of that Pokémon’s purpose and power to figure out the why, and from there… From there, we could find proof of this being their intent and hopefully have this be enough evidence to stop them before they do something regrettable.”  
Simon smiles and kisses his nose.  
“That’s our smart boy.” He praises, making Connor blush a little. “I’m positive if you and Richard really put your minds to it, you’ll get it. Nothing is impossible when the two of you are on it.”  
“Simon, I—,”  
“Hey!” A voice calls. It’s North. She smiles when she sees Simon and Connor laying on the loveseat together and marches over. “No cuddle-pile invite for me? Fucking rude.” She teases as she flops down on top of Connor, Simon laughing as he adjusts to support them all in a comfortable way.  
“It was a little impromptu, in our defense.” Simon says as he sits up, supporting Connor’s weight as he lays the android’s head in his lap, legs crossed under them to support him while North makes a comfortable seat for herself on Connor’s own hips, leaning down and supporting herself on her palms, elbows on Connor’s chest.  
“Oh? What’s going on in that big brain of yours, Connie? You running too fast again?”  
Connor, a little flustered by their positioning, just shyly nods his head.  
“I’m…anxious about the case. Simon gave me some good advice. We didn’t mean to exclude you, North, we—,”  
She snorts a laugh and pokes his nose.  
“I know, babe, I was teasing you. Now come on, you got it all figured out, don’t you?”  
“I… I believe so. It will just take some serious dedication.”  
The WR400 nods and takes her hair out from the bun she’d been wearing it in, shaking it out.  
“And you’ve got that, hun. You and that little brother of yours’ll have everything set to rights, yeah? Give those motherfuckers what they deserve for doing this shit.”  
Connor nods, LED finally turning blue.  
“Yes, I promise. I’m…sorry for this, Simon.”  
Simon chuckles and leans down to kiss him softly, though the angle is a little awkward since he’s upside down.  
“Connor, sweetheart, that’s what we’re here for. We want to help you, let us actually do that sometimes, yeah?”  
The RK800 blushes a little, only for North to lean in and take Simon’s place with another kiss.  
“Yeah, Connie, let us actually help you.” She says, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes, Simon’s fingers still rubbing over his LED while North’s run through his hair and mess it up.  
Connor is blushing hard, cheeks and tips of his ears bright blue.  
“You…you two seem to be having some ideas…” Connor mumbles as he sees North and Simon share a look, then North gently urges him to sit up, which he does, just for Simon to scoot up closer to his back so Connor is pinned between their chests.  
“We might have a few…” Simon says quietly, arms coming around Connor’s waist as he unfolds his legs to bracket Connor’s sides.   
“If you’re interested, that is.” North finishes.  
Connor laughs nervously.  
“I— I, uhm… Maybe? Tell me?”  
North and Simon smile and each kiss a cheek.  
“Of course, honey,” North says. “Well… We could _all_ help you. We already reached out to Markus and Josh, and they’re up for it if you are. Nothing you don’t want, we promise, but…maybe just give yourself to us for a little while. We’ll help you clear your head, give you something else to think about and focus on. Take as long as you need to think about it.”

Connor has… Well, he hasn’t actually been physically intimate with any of them. He’s been present for things like this, but never did anything at the time to really include himself except for maybe the occasional kiss or few words of praise, even a few moments of interface in the heat of the moment when he felt comfortable enough to do so, but mostly just watched. Nobody forced him to do anything, and he knew they never would, but for them to offer something like this, to focus entirely on him was a little overwhelming to think of. He…was actually rather interested. Simon and North with him, just their presence and weight around him was comforting and he couldn’t help but want more of it. He swallows.  
“If…If I say yes…can…can we stop? If I have to?”  
North and Simon both blink, pulling away from him.  
“Oh, Connor…” they both say before hugging him tight, Simon pressed to his back and North cradling his head in her neck.  
“Connor, of course. As soon as you say so, it’ll all stop. I promise, honey, this is all up to you.” She says, kissing his LED while Simon nods.  
“It won’t be very helpful to you if we just stress you out more, Connor. We promise, this is all for you and you’re in control. If you say stop, we will.”  
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Connor already knew all of this, but it helped him to hear it said out loud. He nods.  
“…okay. We can…uhm… I’d like that.”  
North nods and extracts herself from his lap, offering her hand to him to help him stand form the small couch. He takes it, slowly standing and following her lead to the large master bedroom, Simon in tow just behind. Inside the room, Markus and Josh are sitting on the bed talking, calm smiles on their faces as they look up at their paramours. Markus speaks first.  
“Hey, Connor.”  
“H-hi, Markus.”  
Markus chuckles.  
“Come here, darling,” He says as he pats the space on the bed between himself and Josh, watching as Connor obediently does as he’s told and sits on the bed, shoulders hunched up and legs crossed, hands resting on his ankles. “Now, North and Simon suggested something to us. I just wanted to make sure you understood everything you were agreeing to.”  
Connor flinches a little when Markus places a hand on his back, slowly relaxing though as it rubs his shoulders.  
“I… I know you’ll stop if I say to. For any reason. And…and you won’t do anything I don’t want you to.”  
Markus nods.  
“That’s right, but I also wanted to make sure you knew and understood that we don’t expect anything from you. You don’t have to be sexually intimate if you don’t want to be, and that’s okay. If we’re going to do this, I want to make sure it’s something you really want from us and for yourself, not something you’re agreeing to just because we want it. Okay?”  
The RK800 slowly nods his head.  
“I… I know. I do…want this. I’m just nervous. I’ve never…”  
“I know, Connor. It’s okay. We want this to be good for you, we want you to want this and to know you can ask for it again.”  
Simon and North have joined them now, them and Josh crowding around behind and beside him with Markus in front. Markus carefully cradles Connor’s jaw in his hand and smiles, mismatched eyes gleaming in the low light of the bedroom. He thumbs Connor’s skin and sighs softly.

“You really are beautiful, Connor, and I can’t wait to hear just how you sound and see how you look when we make you feel good. Just…say it one more time. Tell us that you want this and it’s all yours, Connor.”

Connor takes a deep breath, LED flashing for just a moment before he smiles and leans into Markus’s warm hand.  
“…I want this, Markus.”

It isn’t as hard to say as he thought it would be.

—

When Connor returns to work the next morning, he’s noticeably more energetic and chipper, stress levels finally in their normal range. Everyone takes notice of the smile back on his face, the coffees they’re gifted with, and the short pets their Pokémon receive.   
Taking his seat at his desk once his usual morning routine is complete, Pierro perched on his desk and munching on his breakfast, it doesn’t take long for Gavin to decide it’s time to ruin it. He approaches the android’s desk with a smirk and leans on it.  
“Hey, _Connie,_ ” He teases. “What’s got you in such a good mood? You’ve been doin’ pretty shit lately.”  
Of course, Gavin hadn’t been up to his usual jabs immediately after Connor’s attack, being actually nice to him and checking up every now and then, but seeing him back to 100% must have been the green light that things were back to normal. Connor, of course, doesn’t take it and in fact dishes back just as hard.  
“Well, I was just so impressed with how well you were doing that I thought we had switched our roles. I have to admit, it was pretty fun sitting around on my ass all day pretending I wasn’t playing Pokémon games.”  
Gavin grins.  
“Good to see you back, Connor. So what happened, huh? You get laid or somethin’?” He laughs.  
Connor just smirks and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.  
“Yeah, actually.”  
The other Detective blinks and both Connor and Pierro laugh at him, but then that grin comes right back and he lightheartedly punches Connor’s shoulder.  
“Shit, man, no way! Fuck yeah, good for you. So, which one was it?”  
Not that Connor’s night spent in the embrace of all four other leaders was any of his business, but Gavin had asked.  
“What makes you think it was just one of them?” He asks with a smirk. “What fun is an Alaska King sized bed if you don’t use it properly?”  
Gavin’s smile grows even wider.  
“You dog!” He cheers and tousles Connor’s hair, ruffling its curls while Connor tries to slap his hand away while he laughs.  
“Yes, yes, get off me. It’s none of your business anyway. Now where’s Nines? I need his help.”  
Gavin rolls his eyes and backs off.  
“Someone challenged him to a battle outside, so he’s probably wiping the concrete with ‘em. Whatcha need?”  
“Simon gave me an idea and with my head now cleared, I think Nines and I will be able to pull it off. I need his help to follow up on Konica Bolero’s research. If we can figure out which Pokémon they were to theoretically summon, we could figure out what their plan really was and prove they were going to attempt it.”  
“Sounds like a plan, Iron Man. Yeah, he’ll be in, give ‘em a few minutes.” He says as he pushes himself away from Connor’s desk. “And hey, Connor,” Gavin turns his head to look over his shoulder.  
“Hm?”  
“Good for you, man. Seriously.”

When Richard comes into the precinct several minutes later, Cerberus is at his side with his head held up high in pride. Undoubtedly, not that Connor did doubt him, the battle had been won. He approaches Connor’s desk and smiles as he leans against it, giving Pierro’s head a little scratch.  
“We’ll talk about last night later. Gavin said you needed my help with some research?”  
Connor blushes and dismissively waves his teasing little brother away.  
“Shut up. Yes, I do need your help.”  
He explains his plan to Richard, happy for his cooperation. They agree to meet at Richard’s apartment later after their shift so they could work in peace, despite him living with Gavin. The detective would more than likely offer his help if it was needed, otherwise Richard assured that he would be resting in the bedroom either watching TV or playing some video games.  
The evening finds Connor in Richard’s apartment after work, their Pokémon all playing together in the main room where there are tablets and computers spread out everywhere, each one detailing pieces of Bolero’s individual research into ancient Pokémon and their abilities, summoning requirements, and folklore. It’s interesting, easily sucking Connor in and only urging him on further and further into the research. Gavin is someone to bounce ideas off of when he makes an appearance to grab something to eat, drink, or even just check up on the androids.  
It takes days to get through it all, the androids grabbing a few hours of sleep when they can. Gavin now has several pictures on his phone of the brothers leaning against or laying on each other on the couch, totally unconscious with Pokémon making a nest of them during the few hours’ stasis. One night, Gavin is sitting on top of the counter as he sips on a cup of coffee while the android’s work, frowning as he can see both their LEDs flashing red.  
“Hey, talk to me, guys. What’s goin’ on in those big robo-brains of yours.”  
Connor sighs as he brushes his messy hair from his face, curls just falling right back without any care from him to actually do anything about them.  
“I don’t think we’re any closer to figuring this out, Gav. There are forty-one Pokémon of legend, and Cyber referring to them as ‘old ones’ doesn’t actually narrow it down as much as I thought it would. We’ve been able to exclude Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf since they’re bonded to me, Kara, and Markus and won’t respond to others. Keldeo, Terrakion, Virizion, and Cobalion are protectors, they have no ill-will towards people unless the environment is harmed and wouldn’t follow the orders of people like Cyber. Cresselia is much the same, existing to keep balance against Darkrai. It doesn’t interfere with the business of humans unless Darkrai in involved, and I don’t think Cyber means to summon Darkrai either. All it does is conjure nightmares, not exactly something extremely powerful. Groudon and Kyogre are possibilities, but then Cyber would have Rayquaza to deal with. Plus, according to history, they’re near-impossible to control and will not follow the orders of humans. Lugia and Ho-Oh are also protectors and would sooner kill someone with evil intent than do as one says. There are too many still even after removing those from the equation, and that doesn’t even mean Cyber wouldn’t still find a way to control and force a good-natured Pokémon to do something horrible. They tried it with androids.”  
Connor flops back on the couch and groans, rubbing at his eyes. Pierro frowns and drops his ears, hopping onto Connor’s chest and nuzzling under his hands with a few quiet chirps and purrs.  
Gavin sighs.

“Okay. Well…forget what they can all do. Think about what that bitch who attacked you said in interrogation. She said ‘the world will be reverted,’ right?”  
Connor nods.  
“Yes, Alessa. I have been thinking about it. Any one of these Pokémon could do something like that, though! They can destroy everything, they can end the entire world if they wanted to!”  
Gavin up-ends his mug and hops down from the counter.  
“Okay, calm down there Tick-Tock, take a breath. Don’t make me send you back to Jericho to get foursome’d out of an anxiety attack. I’ll fucking do it and nobody will stop me, not even Richie.”  
The RK900 just smirks.  
“He’s right, Connor. Please continue, dear.”  
Gavin shoves Connor upright and flops down on the couch, letting the android just lean against his shoulder.   
“The world will be reverted. Think of it more literally. Literally reversed, like time being turned back. Can any of these Pokémon do that kinda stuff?”  
Connor and Richard both blink, LEDs flashing before they move towards their tablets. On Richard’s is an article on Palkia, on Connor’s is an article on Dialga.  
“Bolero’s office, she had statues of Palkia, Dialga, Giratina, and Arceus.” Connor explains, connecting to the TV and broadcasting his memories of her office. “Palkia and Dialga have abilities to alter time and space, including time travel and —,”  
“Creating alternate realities.” Richard finishes.  
Connor nods quickly.  
“They’re very hard to summon, almost impossible, but if Cyber managed to find a way to control them, there’s no telling what they could do. They could even—,”

The two brothers lock eyes and speak at the same time.

_“Reverse the revolution…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk about a misleading summary amiright

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment and let me know what you think!  
> This work has a playlist on Spotify as well if you'd like to listen  
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> 
> Twitter: @FukaiFox  
> Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/13iLwCCGsItYvgnTYf8bNZ


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